


Season 1

by theotherarchangel



Series: The Supernatural Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1000 years of badluck for the boys, Asylums, Bugs, Car Accident, I love those idiots, Monsters are Real, Prank War, Reapers, Route 666, Sam Has a Crush, Scarecrow - Freeform, Shifter, Shtriga, Tulpa, Vampires, Vengeful Spirits, Wendigo, aka highway to hell, azazels appearence, back when the show scared the crap out of me, back when they smiled and stuff, boys go home, creepy doll to match, creepy painting, daevas, deans irrational fear of flying, devils trap, ghostfacers!!!!!, hook man, humans being creepy as hell, i refuse to rewatch it, john winchesters A+ parenting, lots of demons, phantom traveler, racist hypocritical truck thats black, sams visions start, sorry - Freeform, the boys act like boys, women in white, wth was up with that episode, yeah they suck, you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotherarchangel/pseuds/theotherarchangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 1 of Supernatural, completely Canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. E1: Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> The first episode, to an amazing series. Supernatural, saved me. I mean no disrespect by completely copying this, and putting it into writing. I just feel that Carver Edlund's (yes, Chuck's) books deserve to be published somewhere. And I may not be the best writer, but I'm hoping I can do the series justice. The only thing I lay claim to, is the particular words I use in description, and the way I choose to assemble them. The characters, story, and their exact quotes, are all from supernatural. Word for word in the dialogue. The series deserves a completely detailed account of it's history in book format. So enjoy! Please comment any thoughts, or suggestions. If there is something in the next chapter/episode you want me to pay special attention too, feel free to tell me! If it hasn't been posted, I haven't finished editing. Enjoy guys, and thanks for the read!

_22 Years Later  
Stanford University, California_

"Sam." a young, familiar voice calls from around the corner. The young man politely ignored her, not to be mean. But he would rather pretend he wasn't about to be forced to celebrate a holiday he spent a lot of his time ignoring the existence of. Legs bent at the knee, hanging over the bed. Elbows matching with his hands folded together and cradling his head. A few more minutes of procrastination. He was a hard working guy, he could afford this.  
"Get a move on would ya'? We were supposed to be there 15 minutes ago."   
Apparently he couldn't.  
Sam picked himself up, stifling an exaggerated groan, smiling.  
"Sam! Are you comin' or what?" she called again just as he was leaning on the door frame, hanging out and looking at her.  
She was beautiful. Always had been, and as far as Sam could guess, always would be. Jess was wearing a high socked representation of a nurse. The skirt fanning out from her hips, and stopping just a few inches above her knees. Her blonde hair was neat and pulled out of her face. And at the moment she was pinning her bangs back amongst the curls. She could have been wearing a sack and it wouldn't have mattered.  
Beautiful.  
"Do I have to?" Sam jokingly huffed.  
"Yes!" Jess insisted, laughing at his dramatics. "It'll be fun." She smiled, reassuringly, at the sight of him, denim jacket and hair long enough to begin curling around his ears. Sam approaches grinning, keeping his gaze down and avoiding eye contact for the question he knows is coming.  
"And where is your costume?" she punctuates, feigning irritation, but hiding a laugh.   
His head shakes as he lets out a breath through his teeth, and he looks at her with playful seriousness.  
"You know how I feel about Halloween."  
 

"So here's to Sam, and his awesome LSAT victory!" Jess toasts to him over the sound of the music to Sam and their friend, gathered at a small table top bar. It's surface already coated in empty (and mostly empty) glasses.  
"Alright, alright. It's not that big a' deal." Sam sighs good naturedly. Their glasses clink and Jess ignores his bowed head in favor of raising her voice again.  
"He acts all humble," she drawls with emphasis, "but he scored a 174." The third man, a dark skinned individual with a permanent smile on his face speaks up, "Is that good?" Jess swallows her drink, picking up on the twitch of a grin that pulsed Sam's face.  
"Scary good." she hums, taking another sip and fighting a proud, widening smile.   
Josh hums in understanding, "So there ya' go," he stands from his stool, moving behind Sam, brushing his hands over Sam's shoulders and squeezing playfully as he came to Sam's left side.  
_Oh, here we go._ Sam placates a grimace from the strong drink before turning to him.  
"You' are first round draft pick." Josh states as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can go any law school you want!" Sam smiles at that, avoiding Josh, but eyes trained on Jess.  
"Actually, I have an interview here, Monday." He fiddles with his jacket corner, not daring to be too openly hopeful. "If it goes well I think I have a chance for a full ride next year." But Jess knows better. His heart flutters as she leans forward, placing a light hand on his wrist, full of encouragement and faith. Sam has never had someone believe in him like this.  
"It's going to be great." Jess assured, more to Sam then to the conversation. All he could do was smile, and with the look in her eyes he knew that was enough. It would always be enough. "It better."  
Josh broke the pause, and reminded everyone of his exuberant presence. "So, how does it feel to be the Golden Boy of your family?"  
Sam's smile falters, and he looks awkward for a moment before answering, "Ah, they don't know..." Sam reaches for the half empty bowl of popcorn to distract himself and Josh gives him a quick look. "Why not? I would be gloating!" The man purrs. Sam turns to him and tosses the popcorn piece at him.  
" 'cause we're not exactly the Brady's."   
Josh waves off the popcorn.  
I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?"  
Jess steps in and synchronizes with Sam. "No!" he ignores them and walks towards the bar.  
Jess speaks and Sam turns to her.  
"Seriously, I'm proud of you. And you're gonna' knock them dead on Monday, and you're gonna' get that full ride!" Her smile widens, and her voice lowers again, the sound of it engulfing Sam... He has no choice but to believe her with every fiber of his being. "I know it." she breathes.  
She takes a moment to allow that easy calm to flow throughout him, and he gazes at her lovingly. "What would I do without you?"  
She shrugs, glancing to the ceiling, "Crash and burn." a grin erupts onto her face and she looks to him again. Huffing a laugh, grabbing his shirt collar, and leaning in as she pulls him to kiss her. Sam follows eagerly and wraps a hand around her to tangle his fingers lightly into the back of her hair. They slowly envelope themselves into the comfort and support that the other offers. 

~

A muffled crash awakes Sam, and he instinctually freezes, his eyes opening quickly as he takes in his immediate surroundings before moving. He's up in an instant, attempting to muffle his breaths as he paces around the corner. His eyes adjusting to the dark as he searches for movement throughout the apartment. He leans into a corner, peering around it to view the room he believes the noise came from. His eyes instantly trained on an open window.  
A creaking floorboard demands his attention and his head snaps towards the sound to his left. He waits, and huffs a slight breath when he sees a shadow across the surface of an opened door, and then a figure move across the opposite room. Sam instantly strategizes moving into the room with the open window, in an attempt to remain hidden and intercept his quarry. He moves quickly, silently, listening for indicators of the persons position in the next room. He lies in the shadows, left arm lining up against the door frame. The door itself creaks as the figure brushes by, pausing in the center of the room. Sam sees his opportunity and lunges.  
He instantly begins learning about his foe. Stocky, well muscled, tall, _but not tall enough_ , Sam thinks. Before Sam is able to officially wrap his arms around the shorter man, his right arm is grabbed and pushed back towards him at a very uncomfortable angle. He quiets his groan of surprise and attempts to twist away out of reach. He gains control, flinging his arms down and stepping back. The other man steps forward to reestablish the grab, and Sam swats his hand away, still backing up and trying to figure out the best form of attack. They exchange a few swings, equally intercepting them with blocks and no one gets a punch in. Until Sam swings low. He's instantly intercepted and the short man lands a right handed punch directly to the bottom of his chin. Sam regains his balance quickly and throws himself into a high kick, which is dodged and the shorter man aims another punch. Sam blocks this easily, but isn't watching the mans right hand, again, which strikes forward and grabs the front of Sam's shirt. Using Sam's momentum to turn him, and press his back into the ground. The man puts both hands on Sam's shoulders and holds him....gently? But firmly, to the ground. Sam struggles, pressing the back of his right hand into the chest of the figure towering above him, desperately attempting to dislodge him. Before a familiar voice breaks through the adrenaline roaring in his ears.  
"Whoa, easy Tiger."  
Sam looks into the face, now alight with what cool light is filtering through the window.  
"Dean!?" he challenges incredulously. Dean chuckles, a wide grin spreading over his face, eyes crinkling with amusement.  
"You scared the crap out of me!" Sam pants. Dean looks at him with mocking seriousness. "It's because you're out of practice. Sam scowls, baring his teeth slightly before agilely bringing his leg up, forcing it into Dean's side to flip him, his arm swinging around for balance, and commanding the position for a second strike. Dean chuckles again, his hands wrapped around the leg pressing into his chest. "Or not." he adds, his teeth flashing in the light as he smiles proudly at his brother. The reunion too sweet to be ruined by Sammy's show of force. Dean pats his shin roughly, "Get off me." he attempts to growl, but the noise still shakes with laughter, and a smile.  
"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?" Sam asks, hoisting his brother off the floor. Dean puts both hands directly onto Sam's shoulders again, shaking them slightly. "Well, I was looking for a beer."  
"Sam's reply is interrupted by Jess flicking on the lights. "Sam?" she shares questioning glances between her boyfriend and the brother of his she's never met. The boys turn to her. "Jess, hey." Sam says stupidly before turning back to Dean, using his hands to gesture towards the blonde in her pink shorts, and gray t-shirt. She rubs one hand awkwardly down her leg. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Dean looks to her, about to speak but is once again cut off by Jess. "Wait. Your brother Dean?" she questions, ignoring the shorter man and looking to Sam again, a small smile tugging at her lips at the prospect of meeting someone so important to Sam's life.  
"I love the smurfs." Dean grins, acknowledging her t-shirt. "You know, I gotta' tell you," he continues, leaving Sam in favor of stepping up to Jess. "You are completely, out of my brothers league." He breathes a short laugh and she smiles to him in amusement while Sam rolls his eyes and pulls a moderate leveled bitch face. _Oh come on Dean. Not this, not right now._  
Jess grins, "Let me put something on." she says turning away, searching for a hoodie or some sweat pants. "No no, I wouldn't dream of it." Dean interrupts. "Seriously." Jess glances to Sam and Dean turns back towards his brother. "Anyway, I gotta' borrow your boyfriend to talk about some private, family business, but nice meeting you."  
Sam gives Jess a thoughtful look and turns to Dean. "No." he walks past his brother to Jess, and wraps an arm around her shoulders loosely. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it infront of her." Sam says confidently, trying to hide his nervousness. He has to go through with this. Jess deserves to know... _But is it worth it, to expose that world to her..._ He questions to himself. Deciding to make a decision once Dean has spoke. It might not even _be_ about...that.  
Dean wastes no time stalking up to Sam. "Okay." He squares his shoulders and gives Sam a knowing look, softening a bit when he sees Sam's reluctance.  
"Um..Dad, hasn't been home in a few days."  
Sam lets out a breath. It's probably nothing. No bringing up the past, Dad has done this countless times since before Sam can remember. "So, he's working overtime on a 'Miller Time' shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." Sam feigns confidence, hoping Dean doesn't press too far. And Jess senses that, looking to Sam for a moment, before making eye contact with the shorter man again for confirmation.  
Dean bows his head, patience thinning at Sam's ease to brush this aside. He looks back up at Sam, intensifying his gaze. A rough smirk steals the expression for only a moment before Dean gives Sam his 'im-the-big-brother-and-I-know-better' look. His eyelids hooded, mocking Sam as he replies.

"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's calm façade seeps away, realizing what this could mean and dreading the possibilities already circulating in his brain. His hold on Jess tightens and he realizes he's not prepared to introduce Jess into this world. He has no choice. "Jess, excuse us."

~

"Come on, you can't just break in, in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you." Sam's voice echoes off the concrete walls of the outdoor stairwells. Following Dean's brisk pace down. "You're not hearin' me Sammy." Dean sighs. "Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him." He insists. Sam scoffs. "Remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing and he's always fine." Sam continues, with every word his voice getting lower as he increases his level of self control. The rage building while he reflects on his mostly vacant fathers A+ parenting skills.  
Dean stops on the last stair, turning around to look Sam in the face. "Not for this long." He pauses, stubbornly daring Sam to oppose him again.  
"Now, are you gonna' come with me or not?" he asks.  
"I'm not."  
"Why not?"  
"I swore I was done hunting. For good."  
"Come on, it wasn't easy but it wasn't that bad." Dean turns away, forcing Sam to follow him further to continue the 'discussion'.  
"Yeah?" Sam challenges. "When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45." Dean turns to him again, arguing insincerely. "Well what was he supposed to do?" Sam looks at him in disbelief. "I was 9 years old. He was supposed to say 'Don't be afraid of the dark.'"  
"'Don't be afraid of the dark'!?" Dean mocks harshly. His own anger rising.  
"Are you kidding me!? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."  
"Yeah I know what's out there. But still, the way we grew up as kids after mom was killed and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her? And we still haven't the damned thing. So we kill everything we _can_ find."  
Dean shakes his head, attempting to brush off the frustration, "And save a lot of people doing it, too." Sam scoffs and looks at Dean incredulously. "You think mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam challenges.  
Dean slams into the chained gate, pushing it open. And effectively stepping away from Sam in an attempt to _not_ punch his baby brother in the face _again _because that isn't what this is supposed to be about. Sam follows closely, overtaking Dean's strides easily and coming up next to him as they hit another, smaller, set of stairs. "The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean. We were raised like warriors."  
Dean, being 110% done with this conversation just asks him simply, "So, what are you gonna' do. You just gonna' live some normal applepie life? Is that it?" His voice rising again.  
"No. Not normal. Safe."  
"And that's why you ran away." Dean scoffs and turns away, unable to look at his brother.  
"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said that if I was gonna' go I should just stay gone." by this time he's nodding slightly, "And that's just what I'm doing."  
"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already, I can feel it."  
Sam is unable to answer, just taking the moment to search Dean's features for any explanation or excuse to say to calm Dean down and send him on his way.  
"I can't do this alone."  
"Yes you can." Sam says roughly.  
"Yeah." Dean sighs. "Well, I don't want to."  
Sam takes a good look at his brother. The first good look he's taken since this conversation started. The way Dean was looking for something interesting on the ground, probably a hole to Hell so that he didn't have to suffer talking about his feelings. He looked awkward, and unhappy. A complete turn around from the happy-go-lucky expression he wore when  Sam picked him up off the ground, just five minutes before all of this. He let out a deep sigh, forcing himself to look away in hopes that he'd change his mind. Turn around and go back to his apartment and crawl into bed with his girlfriend. He grimaces slightly. _Too late for that..._ And he looks back up at Dean who is staring at him expectantly.  
"What was he hunting."__

Dean swiftly opens the back of the Impala, sparing no second in pulling the handle on the previously seeming floor board. An arsenal of guns, knives, axes and other unrecognizable tools are strapped into the bottom of the panel, and even more lay on the bottom of the trunk. "Alright," Dean hums excitedly, using a sawed off shot gun to hold the secret compartment up while he rubs his hands together. "Lets see, where the hell did I put that thing.." he trails off and Sam picks up. "So when dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Dean continues to rifle through the trunks cotenants but answers proudly, "I was working my own gig- this voodoo thing in New Orleans." Sam scoffs in disbelief, "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Dean finally turns to him, wearing the most serious expression Sam has seen all evening. Possible the past decade. "I'm 26, dude." Dean only waits a second before continuing, and finding his quarry. Dean flips through the pages of a small stack of papers.  
"All right, here we go. So, Dad was checking this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy-" Dean hands Sam a page with a picture of the older man. "they found his car but he'd vanished, completely MIA."  
"So maybe he was kidnapped." Sam suspects, studying the obituary.  
"Yeah," Dean waves off. "Well, here's another one in April, another in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them, over the past 20 years. All men. All same 5-mile stretch of road." Sam's eye brows furrow thoughtfully, and his gaze follows Dean's hands as he reorganizes the papers and sets them down.  
"It started happening more and more so Dad went to go dig around. And that was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. And the I got this voice mail yesterday." Dean picks up a simple, pre-paid flip phone and holds it up while the voice plays.

"Dean," John's voice sounds rasped and distorted through the speakers. "Something is starting to happen. I-I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on." Sam leans in closer hoping to make out more words as the sound becomes very indistinct. The last thing the boys hear for certain is, "Be very careful Dean. We're all in danger." Dean flips the phone closed. "You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asks quietly, afraid of the answer and hoping he's wrong. "Not bad, Sammy." Dean praises. "Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head once, more in exasperation then giving Dean an actual answer.  
"All right. I slowed the message down, and ran it through a Goldwave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." Dean watches for a reaction after pushing another button.  
"I can never go home." a girl is heard whispering slowly, drawing out the final words.  
"Never go home." Sam confirms. Dean nods once before tossing the speaker down and closing everything up, the thud of the trunk closing accenting his first syllable. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Dean leans on the back of his beloved Impala, his body turned away from Sam slightly, but his head peering over to look at him as he speaks. Sam sighs deeply, looking away before turning back and squaring his shoulders. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," he says walking back towards the building. "What's first thing Monday?" Dean asks, unfazed. Sam pauses, stressing the importance of his words. "I have an interview."  
"What, a job interview? Skip it"  
"It's a Law-School interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."  
"Law School?" Dean asks unimpressed. Sam ignores him, "So we got a deal or not?" Dean nods once.

~

"Wait, you're taking off?" Jess asks while watching Sam pack a bag. "Is this about your Dad? Is he alright?" her voice going soft with worry in the end.  
"Yeah," Sam answers nonchalantly. "You know, just a little family drama."  
"But your brother said he was.. on some kind of hunting trip."  
"Ah yeah," Sam curses Dean's name to the heavens and doesn't make eye contact. "He's just deer hunting up at the cabin, and he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. We're just gonna' go bring him back."  
"What about the interview?"  
"I'll make the interview." he assures her, zipping up the bag and finally looking at her now that his guess work crisis was avoided. "This is only for a couple of days." He moves hurriedly for the door, wondering if he forgot anything.  
"Sam, I mean, please. Just stop for a second." he turns to her. "You sure you're okay?"  
"Hey, everything's gonna' be okay. I promise." he tells her, and truly believes it. She relaxes when he kisses her cheek goodbye and turns away, heading for the door again.  
"At least tell me where you're going!" Jess calls out to him.  
He doesn't answer.

~

"Amy, I can't come over tonight." a young man explains to his girlfriend over the phone as he speeds along an empty stretch of road in Jericho, California.  
"Because I got work in the morning, that's why." he insists. He releases a short laugh.  
"Okay, if I miss it, my dad's gonna' have my ass."  
He pauses, peering at his car radio as the sound becomes shrill, and wavering. "Hey, uh, Amy, let me call you back. " he tells the girl over the phone. His eye's have locked onto another girl on the side of the road. He pulls up hoping to assist. Noticing how pale she is and the tears in her long, white dress. "Car trouble or something?" he asks her, coming to a stop and leaning over to look at her face through the open passenger side window. She looks to him and says nothing for a moment. "Take me home." she breathes.  
"Sure, get in." the young man says, pulling the handle on the passenger door and allowing it to ease open. She drifts towards him effortlessly, and settles into the car. She leans back into the seat and stretches her head back, revealing the soft skin on her neck and collar bone. The boy tries to respectfully _not_ notice. "So, are you coming from a Halloween party or something?" She shifts lower, revealing more skin and he takes notice, turning away with an embarrassed laugh. "You know, um, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here." She looks to him for the first time, and he struggles to keep eye contact as she fists her dress, pulling the hem over her thigh and revealing the olive colored skin trailing under the white fabric. His breathing becomes slightly rougher, and she speaks to him directly.  
"I'm with you."  
He laughs nervously and turns to rest his forehead against his left hand, which is propped up by his elbow sitting on the open window slot. Cool fingers graze his chin, and seductively draw his head over, and he follows them, his eyes locking on the girl again. Her hand runs down as his shoulder and arm as she puts it down. "Will you come home with me." She asks him.  
"Um...hell yeah." he answers excitedly, and the tires squeal as he tears away from the curb and speeds off.

After a bit of driving he pulls into the old yard of an abandoned plantation styled house. "Come on, you don't live here." he chuckles. She ignores him, leaning foreword and staring longingly at the structure. "I can never go home." she whispers somberly.

"What?" he says, confused. He leans against the steering wheel to peer at the place. "What are you talking about? Nobody even lives here. Where do you live." He looks to her, but sees just an empty passenger seat where the girl once was. He even glances at the back seats, but she's gone. "That was good." he laughs nervously, stepping out of the car and looking around. "Joke's over, okay?"  
He paces around for a moment. "You want me to leave?"  
No answer.  
The girl must have gone some where, and he can't just leave her here at this abandoned house. Approaching the windows of the structure, he walks up the porch and glances in.  
He flings himself back from the house, falling in his panic as a small colony of bats nearly run into him, his screaming only making them more agitated. In no time the young man is starting his car and backing away from the house. The tires squeal once more as he slings his car around without coming to a complete stop, and presses into the gas pedal. He doesn't calm down until he can't see the old house in his rear view mirror. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, and checks the mirror again, feeling freaked and wanting to confirm that all of that is behind him.  
It is. But it isn't the only thing. The mysterious girl now sits in the back row of seats, startling him uncontrollably. The boys screams are deafening in the car, and they don't stop as he swerves onto a closed bridge. Even when the car stops, the boy does not.  
It's not until the claws rip through his throat, that the screams die in a wet gurgle.

~

Dean adds 'asking Sammy if he wants breakfast' to his morning gas station routine. Holding up some sodas and a bag of chips to the younger man who had waited in the car. "No thanks." Sam answers, trying to soften his disgusted grimace.  
"So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asks with an air of confidence in his voice, like he already knows the answer. Dean doesn't answer.  
"You and dad still running credit-card scams?"  
Dean doesn't look at his brother and continues to fill the Impala's tank with gas. "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."  
"Yeah. And what _names_ did you write on the application this time?" Sam presses.  
"Uh... Bert Aframian and his son Hector." Dean and Sam chuckle. "Scored two cards out of the deal."  
"Sounds about right." Sam huffs in amusement.

"I swear man, you gotta' to update your cassette-tape collection." Sam says in exasperation, shuffling through the small basket he found on the floor.  
"Why?" Dean, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.  
"Well for one," Sam drawls, "They're cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead, Metallica?" Dean snatches the Metallica tape from Sam's hand, fighting a pout.  
"It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam continues.  
"Yeah well... house rules Sammy- The driver picks the music," he says, putting the tape into the player of the car.  
"And shotgun shuts his cake hole." he accents that by throwing the tape that had been in the player, into the basket on Sam's lap.  
Sam looks at him with disdain. "You know, 'Sammy' is a chubby 12 year-old. It's Sam, okay?" Dean has already begun to obnoxiously play his music in an attempt to drown out Sam's voice. "Sorry, I can't hear you. The music is too loud." He laughs and revs the engine, allowing the classic muscle car to slide from the dainty gas station and onto the open road.

~

A few hours later the sleek black car slips past mile marker 7 of Jericho. "All right, so there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something I guess." Sam says pocketing his phone. The car pulls up on a police scene. Three patrol cars are parked with lights flashing on the edge of an abandoned bridge.  
"Check it out." Dean prompts.  
They pull the Impala over and begin glancing over the scene before they've even opened the doors. Dean leans into Sam's space, reaching into the glove compartment to pull out a small tin box. Sam gawks at his nerve as Dean begins sorting through the half dozen or so FBI IDs, all with identical pictures and different names. Dean picks one, and flashes a grin to the appalled Sam before stepping out of the car. "Let's go!" he barks, leading the way.

The boys sidle up to an officer leaning over the side of the bridge. "Did you see anything?" He shouts to the men exiting the water in dive gear. "No, nothing!" they call back, maneuvering the bank with their equipment. The officer shakes his head and returns to the empty car, looking to his partner who is inspecting the vehicle from the drivers side. "No sign of struggle. No footprints, no finger prints. Spotless. It's almost _too_ clean." the partner reports.  
The boys walk up on the car as the officer replies. "So, this kid Troy- he's dating your daughter, isn't he?"  
"Yeah." the partner replies.  
"How's Amy doing."  
"She's putting up missing posters downtown."

Dean interrupts, and they turn to him abruptly.  
"You fellas had another one like this last month, didn't you."  
"And who are you?" the officer challenges.  
Dean doesn't grant him the courtesy of eye contact, his gaze never leaving the car as he gives it his own sort of expectation. But he flashes a badge and replies.  
"Federal Marshals."

The officer gives them a glance. "You two are a little young for Marshals, aren't you?"  
Now Dean gives him a proud sort of look. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." He steps towards the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"  
"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. And there are have been others before that."  
Sam speaks up, "So this victim- you knew him?"  
"A town like this, everybody knows everybody."  
"Any connection between the victims besides that they are all men?" Dean asks, still pacing around the car.  
"No, not so far as we can tell."  
Sam moves to join Dean on the far side of the car. "So what's the theory?"  
"Honestly, we don't know- Serial murderer, Kidnapping ring."  
Sam, thinking, moves to stand next to Dean as he speaks up again.  
"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work," Sam pulls an awkward face while Dean turns back to the officer, grinning. "I'd expect out of you guys."  
He stifles a grunt as Sam roughly stomps onto his foot.  
"Thank you, for your time." Sam says sincerely, walking away. His lips puckered in a major bitch face that he had been holding back until the officers couldn't see him. Dean hurries to catch up, rubbing the emotional offense from his face as he struggles to over take his brother. One quick check to make sure no one is watching them and Dean swats Sam in the back of the head before coming to his side.  
"Ow!" Sam growls, turning to look at his brother. "What was that for?"  
"Why do you have to step on my foot." Dean grumbles harshly.  
"Why do you have to talk to police like that!?" Sam challenges. Dean looks at him sharply. "Come on. They don't really know what's going on." Dean cuts him off, forcing Sam to stop and look at him face to face. "We're all alone on this. If we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Sam looks past him and clears his throat. Dean turns to find himself face to face with a few Federal Marshals just arriving on the scene. "Can I help you boys." The oldest grumbles.  
"No sir, we were just leaving." Dean replies as two of the agent walk past them. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." He greets in their passing.  
They circle around the gentlemen and walk calmly(ish) to the car.

~

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean says, gesturing to a young women passing out fliers, and stamping them to building surfaces and windows. "Yeah." Sam agrees.  
"You must be Amy." He suggests to the short girl. Her hair is back in a loose ponytail and she's shifting her short, thick, fabric boots anxiously as she hangs another poster. "Yeah." she says, turning to them.  
"Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean and this is Sammy." Sam flashes him an irritated face, but turns and nods to the girl.  
"He never mentioned you to me." she questions, turning and walking away. Dean follows, coming up beside her. "Well that's Troy I guess. We're not around much. We're up in Modesto." Sam cuts Dean off and takes his place to her right. "So, we're looking for him too, and we're kind of asking around."  
Amy stops, and another girl comes up next to her as Sam moves in front of her, Dean beside him. "Hey, are you okay?" She asks, sparing the boys a nervous glance. Amy doesn't hesitate. "Yeah." And the girl folds her arms together to listen.  
"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam continues, ignoring the second girl.

"I was on the phone with Troy while he was driving home." Amy starts while the four of them share a booth in an empty diner. "He said he would call me right back, and he never did." Sam continues to question her.  
"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?"  
"No, nothing I can remember."  
Dean jumps in. "Here's the deal ladies. The way Troy disappeared...something is not right. So if you've heard anything..." The girls share a look and Dean trails off.  
"...what is it?" he looks anxiously in between them. Amy's friend speaks reluctantly. "Well it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."  
Dean and Sam ask to together, "What do they talk about?"  
The girls look to each other again, sharing a sigh, the other girl shifts awkwardly in her seat. Placing her fore arms on the table and gesturing slightly with her hands as she explains. "It's kind of this local legend..." Dean and Sam lean closer, anticipating the sort of information they've been looking for as the girl speaks on.  
"This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago." Dean's head rotates as he looks to Sam, who's eyes never leave the girl speaking in front of him.  
"Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up... well, they disappear forever." Sam nods and finally looks to Dean, his lips pursed while he runs this over in his head and already begins to strategize their next step. He struggles to refrain from breaking out in monologue with Dean while the girls are still there.

~

It isn't long before the boys find themselves in a, mostly empty, section of a public library. Searching the records on a vacant computer.  
Dean types away, entering the phrase _Female Murder Hitchhiking_. Sam leans over closely, fighting the urge to take over as Dean types.  
**_(0) Result for search "Female Murder Hitchhiking"_**  
The buttons press rapidly while Dean tries different wording, becoming frustrated with how specific he has to be to find what he wants.  
_Female Murder Centennial Highway  
**(0) Result for search "Female Murder Centennial Highway"**_  
"Let me try." Sam insist, already reaching for the keyboard. Dean swats his hand roughly without looking, "I got it." he insist.  
Sam apparently doesn't give a flying piece of crap, because he grabs Deans roller chair and pushes him away.  
"Dude!" Dean protests as he swivels into the distance and Sam takes his place. He squints at the computer screen, mostly ignoring Dean who scoots back over and slaps him on the shoulder as soon as he can reach. "You're such a control freak." Sam only sighs neither confirming nor denying the grumbled statement.  
"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam asks. "Yeah." Dean drawls, still pouting and refusing to make eye contact. Sam ignores this as well.  
"Then maybe it's not murder."  
_Female Suicide Centennial Highway.  
**(1) Result for search "Female Suicide Centennial Highway**_  
Suicide on Centennial...

Sam nods to himself, pleased, Dean just gives him a glance.  
"This was 1981." Sam explains, picking through the article of information. "Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sulvania Bridge, drowns in river."  
"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asks, finally over his hurt ego.  
"Yeah-"  
"What."  
"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing...  
"They both die."  
Dean hums in understanding.  
" 'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it'," Sam continues to quote from the article."-said husband, Joseph Welch.  
"That bridge look familiar to you?" Dean gestures to the black and white picture of police forces carrying an occupied body bag up the bank of a river, with a two lane bridge looming silently behind them.

~

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean assumes as they come up to the railing midway down the bridge's surface.  
"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks quietly.  
"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him."  
"Okay, so now what." Sam asks as they turn away from the railing and begin walking along the bridge. The dark of night, and the thick fog making it difficult to see anything on either end of the bridge and out into the distance.  
"Now we keep digging, till we find him. It might take a while."  
"Dean," Sam freezes. "I told you I've got to get back by -"  
"Monday." They say in unison, Dean a bit more forcefully and turning to see his brother. "Right. The interview."  
"Yeah."  
"Yeah, I forgot." he says in a tone that assumes he didn't forget but he wishes he could. "You're really serious about this, aren't you." He presses. "You think you're just gonna' become some lawyer, marry your girl?"  
"Maybe. Why not."  
"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"  
"No." Sam says taking a commanding step foreword. "And she's not ever going to know."  
Dean nods in sarcasm. "Well that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but you're gonna' have to face up to who you really are." Dean turns away, confident in his ability to shut a conversation down and accept his title.  
"And who is that?" Sam says hurrying to catch up, not allowing Dean to end up on top.  
"One of us."  
"No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life." Sam demands, finally overtaking Dean again, cutting him off and forcing eye contact.  
"Well you have a responsibility."  
"To Dad, and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what mom looks like."  
Dean's scowl deepens as Sam continues.  
"What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."  
In just a split second of finishing, Dean has his hands fisted in Sam's jacket and he is slamming him into a bridge support beam. Sam stifles a grunt of surprise and discomfort as his shoulders and back smack into it painfully. And for a moment he's glad Dean didn't press him hard enough to make him hit his head as well. After a second he lets out a breath, unsure of Dean's next move as he holds Sam in place, his hands never loosening.  
"Don't, talk about her like that."  
Dean holds him a second longer before slinging his arms off and taking a step back and away, preparing to head for the car again, when he freezes.  
A girl is standing on the opposite edge of the bridge, about 50 yards away. The night's breeze beckons at her moonlight reflecting dress, and it flows outwards as she stands.  
"Sam." Dean prompts. Instantly Sam takes his place to Dean's left side, a large step bringing him slightly past his older brother. He swallows a lump in his throat as she turns and looks at them, before leaning foreword, and into the air.  
Both men sprint off with as much force as they can, agonizing for the spot she disappeared from.  
"Where'd she go?" Dean exclaims.  
"I don't know."

Suddenly the Impala is switched on and the engine turns over loudly. The boys step away from the edge, and are bathed in the light from the headlights.  
"What the -"  
"Who's driving your car..?" Sam breathes.  
Dean wordlessly reaches into his pocket to pick up the keys and jingle them slightly. Sam looks at them, his mouth open, and then looks back at the car as it's tires start to squeal. The boys hesitate, only for a moment in their shock before they start to run. Sam grabbing Deans jacket to pull him first before they sprint down the bridge. The car speeds up and roars after them. Dean risks a glance. Determining there is too much bridge, and not enough room in between them and the car. He shoves Sammy to the railing and wordlessly they agree to pitch themselves over, and into the water. The car stops, turned slightly towards the railing where Dean and Sam went over.  
  
After a few moments of silence, Sam struggles to pull himself back up the bridge. His shoulder aching from where he jarred it after grabbing a pole that stuck out from the bridge, at the last minute. After a final good pull he's left standing on the outside of the main railing. But Dean is no where in sight. Sam looks to the water.  
"Dean!" he calls wildly, before seeing a body dragging itself onto the bank.  
"What?" Dean calls back irritably.  
"Hey," Sam pants, relieved. "Are you all right?"  
Dean rolls over onto his back, panting as well. Soaking wet and covered from hair to boot in dark mud.  
"I'm super."  
Sam laughs airily.

They meet up at the car. "Alright?" Sam asks as Dean slams the hood down. "Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now. That Constance chick - what a bitch!" he ends, screaming off into the water.  
"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Dean just sighs deeply out of his mouth, leaning against the hood.  
"So where's the trail go from here, genius?" Sam asks, settling down next to him. Though, paying close enough attention to avoid getting mud on himself, seeing as Dean is still completely coated. All he does for a reply is wave his hands exaggeratingly in the air, grimacing at the mud. Sam sniffs the air softly, pulling a face before turning to Dean. "You smell like a toilet."

~

"One room please." Dean requests to the elderly man at the counter. Soft light is filtering though the blinds of the small hotel lobby, and Dean is pretty much sure he's been coated in mud long enough, thank you.  
The man studies the credit card Dean tossed onto the booking chart. "You guys having a reunion or something?" the man asks.  
The boys look at him strangely. "What do you mean?" Sam asks.  
"That other guy," the old man says. "Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month." The boys eyes widen and they look to one another.

~

It only takes a moment for Sam to pick the lock and Dean doesn't even abandon his 'stand guard' stance until Sam grabs him from the back of the jacket roughly and drags him in. A dirt cloud is all that's left outside from the dry mud Sam inadvertently shook off. Dean gains his footing as Sam wheels him around, slamming the door closed and he almost runs into Dean who hasn't moved, too busy getting over the shock from the state of the room.  
A queen sized bed is off to the side. An empty box suit case on it and some smaller cases tangled in the comforter and laying across the pillows. A map is on the wall above the bed, and most of the wall space in general is occupied by pictures of articles. Sam blanks at the level of organization, and Dean gets over his initial surprise, and taking it into stride as he approaches the lamp to shine some light on their discovery. He sniffs at half an abandoned cheese burger and flinches from the scent. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days, at least." Sam sighs quietly, crouching down to inspect the circle of salt around the bed. Letting it slide through his fingers as he looks up to Dean.  
"Salt, cat's-eye shells. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in. Dean only nods, eyes running over a diagram of articles on the back wall.  
"What do you got here?"  
"Centennial Highway victims. I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, age, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common."  
Sam listens half heartedly, allowing himself to scan the opposite wall, going over different pictures and notes, until he happens upon a single phrase scribbled onto a sticky note, and heading a familiar looking article about a suicide on Centennial.

_Women in White_

He walks towards the wall slowly, leaning in to turn on the lamp, and soaking in the pictures of a white dressed figure next to the river.  
"Dad figured it out."  
Dean turns to him quickly. "What do you mean?"  
"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a Women in White."  
Dean turns back to the wall with the victims. "You sly dogs. All right, so if we're dealing with a Women in White, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."  
"She might have another weakness."  
"No, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"  
"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband, if he's still alive."  
Dean hums in agreement. "All right, why don't you see if you can find an address? I'm gonna' get cleaned up." Dean plans, heading for the bathroom.  
"Hey Dean," Sam intureupts him. "What I said earlier about Mom and Dad - I'm sorry." Dean holds up his hand. "No chick-flick moments." Sam huffs a laugh, "All right. Jerk."  
"Bitch."

~ 

Sam goes through his phone, seeing a voicemail from Jess and collapsing onto the edge of the bed to listen to it. He sighs, wishing he had been able to pick up the phone, but still happy to here Jess' voice, even if she isn't talking to him directly.

"Hey it's me." Her voice says through the speaker. "It's about 10:20..."  
"Hey man, I'm starving." Dean interrupts, choosing now to exit the bathroom. "I'm gonna' grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?" he asks, shrugging on his jacket, mud free.  
"No." Sam says.  
"Aframian's buying." Dean grins. Sam just hums a protest.

Dean closes the door behind him, adjusting the collar of his leather jacket as he makes his way across the parking lot. He slows when he sees the Motel guy talking on the street outside. He pauses completely, just in time for the man to point Dean out to the officers. The same ones from the bridge, it would seem. He turns away quickly and whips out his cell to signal Sam.

The phone beeps just as Jessica's message ends, and Sam sighs when he sees it's Dean.  
"What."  
"Dude, Five-0. Take off." Dean says frantically. Sam stands quickly, the code instantly recognized. "What about you." he asks.  
"Uh, they kind of spotted me. Go find Dad." Dean finalizes, hanging up.

The phone clicks when he flips it closed, and he pockets it and turns just as the officers are stepping up to him.  
"Problem officers?" he inquires confidently. Just in case he may be able to get out of this one.  
"Where's your partner?" the dark skinned man from the bridge asks.  
Guess not.  
"Partner? What - What partner?" he chuckles nervously. the man just looks at him, signaling his partner to go check out the motel. Dean watches anxiously as the 2nd officer approaches the room he knows Sam is in.  
"So, fake U.S. Marshal, Fake Credit Cards." The officer drones on. "You got anything that's real?"  
"My boobs." Dean says seriously before flashing a shit-eating grin.

Moments later he finds himself slammed onto the hood of a car, having his Miranda Rights told to him. Again.

~

"So you want to give us your real name." An older, uniform clad pig asks him. Slamming a cardboard box full of files down on the table Dean is currently sitting at.  
"I told you. It's Nugent, Ted Nugent." Trying, and failing to hide the grin pulling at his lips.  
"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here." The old man says.  
"We talking, like, misdemeanor kind of trouble, or 'squeal like a pig' trouble." Dean inquires.  
"You got the faces of 10 missing persons taped to your wall, along with a whole lot of Satanic Mumbo Jumbo. Boy you are officially a suspect."  
"That makes sense." Dean says, not holding back on the dripping sarcasm. " 'cause when the first one went missing in '82 I was 3."  
"I know you got partners. One of them is an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing." Dean only shrugs.  
"So tell me, Dean." Dean prides himself and not so much as twitching an eye brow when his name is called.  
"Is this his." Or when his Dad's journal, complete with the documentations of everything his Dad has ever seen or fought from the supernatural world, lands on the table, eight inches from his hands.  
Not, a single, eyebrow.  
"I thought that might be your name." The officer informs. "See, I leafed through this, what little I could make out." Dean's hands tighten underneath the table and he resist the urge to roll out his shoulders when the officer begins flipping through the pages. Especially when some of them are pictures of him and Sam at varying ages. "I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy, but I found this too."  
Dean leans in, recognizing his dad's writing on a piece of paper.

Dean  
35-111

Now his eye brow twitches. He'd drop kick a nun to look at map right about now.  
"Now. You're staying right here, til' you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

~

Sam Winchester finds himself on the porch of a very run down house on the out skirts of the town. He knocks on the fading wood of the door, hoping that 'dead' smell isn't coming from inside. That would be awkward and unhelpful.  
The door swings open and an older gentlemen opens. "Hi, are you Joseph Welsh?" Sam asks in his be-polite-to-strangers voice.  
"Yeah." the man nods.

 

The man gently holds the picture of John, a 5-6 year old Sam, and a 9-10 year old Dean, with the tips of his fingers, trying not to get it dirty with his slightly greased hands. "Yeah, he was older, but that's him." He answers, referring to John and whether he had spoken to him. "He came by three or four days ago, said he was a reporter."  
"That's right." Sam agrees. "We're working on a story together."  
"Well I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on - the questions he asked me." Sam ponders this for a moment as they walk through the man's yard. He seems to have taken up the lonely-old-man hobby of collecting anything and everything made before 1975, whether it's falling apart, or already had. Kind of like some one else Sam knew...  
"He asked me where she was buried." Sam nods.  
"And where was that again?"  
"What, I got to go through this twice?"  
"It's fact checking," Sam insisted. "If you don't mind."  
The old man sighs. "In a plot behind my old place over on Breckenridge."  
"Why did you move?"  
"I'm not gonna' live in the house where my children died."  
"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" Sam asks, turning to the man and stopping their wanderings.  
"No way. Constance - she was the love of my life, prettiest women I ever known."  
"So you had a happy marriage?"  
Joseph leans his head down a bit, the shame weighing him down, even after all these years.  
"Definitely." he answers anyway. Sam nods, not really expecting the man to come out and say what he did. "Well, that should do it. Thanks for you time."  
It takes Sam all of eight seconds to change his mind, and see if he can confirm it with the old man himself.  
"Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a Women in White?"  
"A what?"  
Guess not.  
"A Women in White, or sometimes a Weeping Woman."  
*Insert blank stare*  
"It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really. They're spirits. They've been sighted for hundred of years, dozens of places in Hawaii and Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand. But all share the same story."  
"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." He goes to turn away, and Sam follows, continuing.  
"You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them," Joseph freezes. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."  
The man's eyes squint against the light, while he ponders what Sam has told him.  
"You think..." his bottom lip quivers, "You think that has something to do with Constance, you smart ass?"  
Sam holds his guns, even as the man steps up to him threateningly. It's not like Sam couldn't drop the man in a heartbeat, not that he wanted too.  
"You tell me."  
The man is trembling slightly now, and Sam can see the hurt, confusion, shame, and anger all flash through Joseph's tired gaze. "I mean, maybe - maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children."  
And now it's just anger.  
"Now, you get the hell out of here, and you don't come back!" Joseph breathes deeply, his mouth opened slightly as he tries to keep the tears welling in his eyes from spilling. Sam looks down to his feet, and then watches as the man hobbles away, letting out a big sigh.

~

"I don't know how many times I've gotta' tell you. It's my high school locker combo." Dean insisted, fidgeting to sit up again in his exasperation. If only Sammy would get off his damn ass and call. He has a Dad to find.  
"Are we gonna' do this all night long." the man sighs, his head lolling forward a bit in exhaustion. _I freakn' hope not._ Another officer ducks through the door way. "We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road. He ducks out again without waiting for any sort of answer, and Dean's babysitter turns back to him. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?" he asks. Dean looks away in irritation, "No."  
"Good."  
Just before the man leaves, he hand cuffs Dean to the table, and then closes the door behind him. Dean counts down, 3, 2, 1. And turns to the paperclip holding a few pages in his dad's journal together. He picks it up and studies it with a sadistic smirk. It's almost not even fair for those poor douche wads. 

Sam has just finished his, probably, 5th lap around the town limits of Jericho when his phone rings. It cycles through the tone a few times before he can get it out of his pocket, but as soon he answers Dean starts talking.  
"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? I don't know that's pretty illegal.  
"You're welcome." Sam chuckles, pulling off the exit and heading towards the town itself.  
"Listen we gotta' talk." Dean says, and Sam perks a bit, "Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a Women in White. She's buried behind her old house- "  
"Sammy, would you shut up for a second." Dean barks through the speaker.  
"I just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet." Sam ignores him.  
"That's what I'm trying to tell you." Now Sam listens. "He's gone. Dad left Jericho."  
"What!? How do you know?"  
"I've got his journal."  
"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."  
"Yeah, well he did this time."  
"What's it say?"  
Same old ex-Marine crap when he want's to let us know where he's going."  
"Coordinates." Sam nods, understanding and unsurprised. "Where to?"  
"I'm not sure yet."  
"Dean, what the hell is going on?"  
Before Dean can answer with a defeated 'I don't know' Sam's eyes lock onto a lady in the middle of the road. He slams on the breaks, instinct taking over in his momentary spook before he realizes he just saw the Women in White.  
"Sam? Sam!" Dean starts calling through the phone as the car comes to a stop and Sam let's the breath he had been holding, and all others after it, out heavily. Clutching the steering wheel so hard his knuckles go white and the veins pop in his wrist.  
"Take me home." a women's voice says behind him and he flinches roughly, turning to see her in the mirror above him. His breathing goes 60-0 as he freezes, unsure of his next move and fighting to stay calm. Not everyday you almost hit a vengeful death spirit with your car and then she asks for a ride home.  
"Take, me home." She demands more forcibly. The mystic edge to her voice becoming thinner and she sounds almost...real.  
"No." Sam says. Anticipating that this is her ruse to try and press men to be unfaithful. Her head turns slightly, and the locks on the doors click together. Sam, is officially trapped. He fights at them to try and pull them up, first the one on the drivers side, and then he reaches over to have a go at the passenger side lock and handle. He fumbles a bit as the car is put in drive, and gas pedal presses down, seemingly on their own. Apparently ghost don't have concern for the law, because the car is going very fast. Huh. She drives like Dean when a good song comes on.  
He presses on the door again for good measure, and tries to fight the steering wheel. But nothing more happens than the car speeding along on it's own accord.  
After a few minutes they slow, and pull off of the main road and into an old gravel driveway. It's mostly dirt now., and the car comes to an easy stop in front of the porch.  
The engine cuts off.  
"Don't do this." Sam says, looking at her in the backseat through the mirror. The image moves sporadically for a split second and then returns to normal. "I can never go home." she replies, looking at the house somberly.  
"You're scared to go home." Sam realizes. He looks back to the mirror and she's gone. He whips around to check the back seat, just in case and then sits right again, anticipating something to happen. A moment later, and the women is sharing the bench seat with him, looking at him curiously. He looks back at her for a moment before suddenly, she's on top of him, and pressing him uncomfortably into the back of the seat. He grimaces, struggling slightly while she holds him in place and rubs against him. "Hold me." she whimpers. "I'm so cold."  
"You can't kill me." Sam points out. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been."  
She looks at him coolly, pressing her palm against his jawline and forcing his head back. She adds pressure to his hold, and he gasps slightly at the angle his back is being pressed into the seat. She leans in to his right ear. "You will be." she breathes, and the air whisks over his lobe and disturbs the hair curling around it slightly. Her hands come up roughly, forcing his head to remain straight, and the she roughly puts her lips to his. Sam does his best to just freeze. Keeping his jaw tight, ensuring his mouth is closed and other wise just remaining still. She sucks on his bottom lip in rhythm and honestly, this is just gross. His hands come up and brush the keys in the ignition, and he opens his eyes in his struggle to turn them. Then, the weight is off him. No one is molesting his mouth, and the lady is gone. He isn't sure that this is exactly a good thing... Yep! He officially hates when he's right. The groans and screams can only be coming from him, but he can't tell for sure. Five, sharp points are being driven into his chest and his fingers scramble at the clothing there. The women is flashing right before his eyes. From gone, half skeleton, to skeleton to gone again, and she is 1st knuckle deep into his breast.  
He can't stop screaming.  
Not until some real gunshots sound to his left and the window above him shatters. Everything stops for a moment, and then it's all of a sudden worse.  
Sweat is beading on the side of his head and his back arches off the seat now laying almost parallel with the normal seats in the back. She's gone for another moment and Sam pounces on the ignition, turning the car on and into drive.  
"I'm taking you home." he growls, and stomps on the pedal. Dean lowers his gun and watches as his baby, and his brother make a beeline for the porch.  
"Sam!" he calls. But Sam can't hear anything over the roar of the engine, the pounding in his ears, and crashing sound of splintering wood as he drives into what used to be a pretty spacious living room.  
"Sam!" Dean yells again, ducking his head to walk through the Impala sized hole in the wall.  
"Here!" Sam groans. and Dean rushes to the passenger side of the car.  
"You okay?" he asks frantically.  
"I think."  
Dean forces the door open, leaning through the hole where the official window used to be. "Can you move?"  
"Yeah, help me." Sam pants, reaching for Deans already outstretched hands. Dean pulls him from the car, steadying him through every groan and not letting go until he thinks Sam can stand for himself. And even then he just leans him onto the Impala, and keeps his left hand on his shoulder. They both look up, and just a few feet away stands the Women in White. She's holding a wooden picture frame with a large portrait of her, and the children she murdered. And then, her eyes dart up to stare at the boys. She doesn't blink or look away once while she flings the picture down, and pushes a long sitting dresser at them. It comes sliding across the floor, almost as fast as the Impala, and they brace for the impact that knocks them into the car, and holds them there, no matter how hard they push against it together. The women approaches, almost upon them, when the electricity begins to crackle through out the room, and the lights begin to flicker. She stills, looking about the room until her eyes rest on the stairwell behind her.  
There's water running down the wall and the bottom of the banister. The shadow of two children appear on the far wall, opposite of the handrail, and the women takes a fearful step back. She gazes longingly up at the top of the stairs, and makes her way over to the bottom, looking up at the children, whose feet, the water flows between.  
"You've come home to us mommy." They say in unison. The women's eyes widen, and then she whips around to find both children standing directly behind her. They lunge forward, their arms wrapping around her middle, and all three of their face becoming distorted as she screams. Blue light flashes throughout the room like lightning, connecting and spreading and pulsing in waves. A black hole lined with blue opens in place of the floor under their feet, and the screaming doesn't stop until the women and children are gone. The hole closing, draining like water, and swallowing them up. As soon as it's gone, the dresser ceases to press against them so heavily, and they push it off with ease together. They make their way over to the hole to investigate. All that's left is a small pool of water, and a moderately dampened carpet.  
"So, this is where she drowned her kids." Dean says through his breathing. Sam nods, "That's why she could never go home." he pants. "She was too scared to face them."  
"You found her weak spot." Dean agrees. "Nice work Sammy." He punctuates with a strong pat to Sam's bloodied chest. Sam of which, laughs in pain.  
"I wish I could say the same for you." Sam says turning to Dean who has begun to inspect the car. "What were you thinking? Shooting Casper in the face, you freak!?"  
"Hey!" Dean points at Sam. "Saved your ass. And I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car, I'll kill you." Sam just laughs, only mildly amused, because Dean just shot a ghost in the and he sounds serious.

~

"Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackbottle Ridge, Colorado." Sam says, holding a map and working out the coordinates while Dean drives on, trying to ignore the Impala's single headlight. "Sounds charming. How far?"  
"About 600 miles." Sam answers awkwardly with the flashlight tucked between his cheek and shoulder.  
Dean shrugs. "If we shag ass, we can make it by morning." Because hey, who needs to sleep more than once every 2-3 days? Not the Winchester boys.  
Sam looks at Dean awkwardly, "Dean, um..." Dean looks at him, his face trying to hold back the pain he could feel stabbing through his chest. " You're not going." He finishes quietly.  
"The interview's in 10 hours. I've got to be there." Sam replies.  
Dean just shakes his head and looks out the window for a moment, trying to activate a neutral expression. His jaw clenches as he nods, and he only replies when he think he can say words without begging Sam to stay. If Sammy really wants to go be a lawyer, Dean isn't going to be the one to keep that from him.  
"Yeah... Yeah whatever." he all but whispers. "I'll take you home."

~

Dean shifts the car into park as Sam grabs his bag and leaps out. Leaning through the window as he closes his door.  
"You'll call me if you find him?" Dean nods. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"  
"Yeah all right." Dean agrees, wishing Sam would just stay with him in the first place. Dean rolls the engine over as Sam pats the car. "Sam." Dean calls suddenly. And the younger man turns to his brother.  
"You know, we made a hell of a team back there." Dean grins.  
"Yeah." Sam smiles softly, and watches as Dean switches to drive, and pulls off of the curb. He sighs, missing his brother already.

~

"Jess!" Sam calls out, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him. "You home!?" No reply. He worries for a moment, then grins when he hears the shower running. He sets his bag down out of the way and leans into the bed, sitting and looking towards the bathroom. Wondering if he should surprise her by going in, or letting her walk out to see him. His eyes droop down and he chooses the latter. Going limp and landing with his back on the bed. He lets out a sigh as the mattress allows him to sink in, and then supports him. He folds his wrists behind his head, wondering if he'll even be awake long enough to surprise her, or if they'll just surprise each other.

He twitches his head to the side as something drips onto his forehead. Followed closely be a second drop.  
And then Sam gasps as he opens his eyes  
Jess is on the ceiling, which seems to have formed it's own gravitational pull. Her hair pressed against it and fanning out. Mouth, slightly open and her eyes sunken in, more than he's ever seen. Her left leg is twisted at a weird angle, and slash of red stains her mid section from one side of her rib cage to the other.  
"No!" Sam bellows, scrambling back in shock. And fire erupts from the space behind her, filling the room with harsh screaming. It envelopes over her limbs and filters through her hair, the flames growing larger and more powerful. He doesn't even hear the door being kicked in, or Dean screaming his name.  
"Jess!!" He screams at her desperately, searching her face for any signs of life or recognition.  
Sam doesn't stop screaming when Dean rushes into the room.  
He doesn't stop screaming when he's dragged from the bed and shoved through the bedroom door.  
When the flames fill the room and smoke fills his lungs, he still struggles against Dean.

~

He forces the chamber of the small rifle in hands closed, probably harder than he needed too but he doesn't care right now. He turns to see Dean looking at him. Expression filled with sorrow and sympathy, though he doesn't say a word.  
Sam just nods, sighs, and looks away. Tossing the rifle roughly into the trunk of the car.  
"We've got work to do." He says, just before closing the lid with a slam.

 

 

 


	2. E2: Wendigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean follow the coordinates in their father's journal and land in Colorado. Where they investigate the disappearance of several campers.

_Black Water Ridge_  
_Lost Creek, Colorado_

The noises outside pass unnoticed to the campers. Birds calling to each other, insects chirping. The fire's low crackle, the rustling, and the low growl that moves only 10 yards from the small collection of tents. Instead, the young men have preoccupied themselves.  
"Dude. You're cheating." one of them declares, angrily pressing the buttons of his handheld Nintendo.  
"No, you just suck." The other responds slowly. Unable to multi-task speech and his game.

The low growl comes again, closer. But not even the 3rd man notices. Distracted by the process of sending a video message to his family.  
"Hey, Hailey." He greets happily with a genuine smile. "Day six. We're still out near Black Water Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe. So don't worry. Talk to you tomorrow." He finalizes lightly before clicking the video over.

Back in the first tent, the defeated man tosses his game to the ground. Standing away and beginning to zip the tent open.  
"Hey, where are you going?" the victorious man rolls over to face him with a triumphant grin stretching across his face. "My moment of victory."  
"Nature calls." The defeated man insists while exiting the tent, zipping it closed behind him before stepping to the nearest tree and unbuttoning his pants.  
A twig breaks to his left, and he startles, looking in the direction of the bushes rustling softly in the wind. He ignores them, shaking his head, before snapping it to attention when the noise starts again, just in front of him, and closer. His breathing harshens, and he searches desperately in the darkness for the source, hoping it's not a bear or wolf, and not even sure if wolves populate Colorado. The rustling grows louder, closer, and the man's scream is cut off just as it reaches a noticeable volume. Both men, alone in their tents, startle at the noise, and turn when the scream blends into a drawn out bellow.  
"Brad?" the gamer calls. "Brad!"  
"Gary, what's going on?" the other man asks from the 2nd tent.  
When neither receives a reply, Gary, clad in a white and blue flannel and matching bandana, stands and cautiously opens the tent, just enough to poke his head out.  
The insect chirping can be heard, the birds silent for the night, and the crackling fire highlights his face as he sticks his head out. He looks around for any sign of his defeated friend, and is greeted by a low, hissing growl, just above his head. He screams loudly and is ripped from his tent.  
The last man jumps up at the sound of yowling and his friend's yells, slowly at first. Then lunging forward to turn of the electric lantern, his breathing accelerating, and his lungs burning while he tries to control it. The growling sounds again, stalking past his tent and paired with a tall, lanky shadow. Moving otherwise too slightly, and much to quickly. It darts back and forth along the flimsy walls of the tent, searching for an entrance. The man unable to hold his breath any longer lets it loose with a pained, fearful gasp. The creature is still pouncing around, moving faster and snarling with frustration. Round and round the creature goes, and the man gives up trying to follow it, just sitting and praying it doesn't find it's way in.  
He opts to hold his breath again when the silence comes. Deafening, and coupled with absolute stillness.  
And then the sound shatters, the tent torn through abruptly just over his left shoulder. He whips to the sound, scrambling backwards away from the growling creature, screaming as he goes.

~

_Palo Alto, California_

Sam walks across the small cemetery. His eyes already trained on the headstone in question. A small bouquet of flowers gripped in one hand, the other reserved in his pocket. He turns his head away as he steps up to the arrangement. Some burnt out, apple scented candles lay on the top edge. A small white bear sits on the freshly turned dirt, and leaning on the stone next to a small picture frame. Jess smiling wildly like usually, and a hand sized rosary leans on the edge of that. Sam sighs, fighting tears.  
"I, um.." he begins, and chuckles nervously. "You always said roses were lame." he smiles at a memory and looks over the assortment of pink, purple and white flowers. "So I brought you..uh.." he trails of softly, eyeing the picture somberly.  
"Jess," he starts harshly, "oh, God." he gasps, the tears welling in his eyes. He can't take this. She isn't supposed to be gone. He crouches, gripping the flowers. Putting them down seems too real. Even after the funeral, and looking at her name on this tombstone... he can't put the flowers down.  
"I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth." his whispers full of longing and regret. He swallows the lump in throat, placing the flowers over the picture he can't bear to see anymore... and a hand shoots from the ground, grabbing his wrist, pulling it away from him.

~

Dream Sam screams horribly, and wakes present day Sam to the 30 year old rock music, and the rumbling engine of an even older car. He jolts upwards, glaring at the dash board in confusion, offended that it allowed him to sleep after so many days of restlessness.  
Dean looks at him, concerned. He wanted Sam to come with him, but not like this. Never like this...  
The car accelerates.  
"You okay?" Dean asks, avoiding eye contact.  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam breathes, blinking his eyes roughly.  
"Another nightmare?"  
Sam just clears his throat to avoid answering the obvious.  
Dean considers his options.  
"Want to drive for awhile?" he asks.  
Sam just chuckles, grinning in disbelief. "Dean, in your whole life, you never once asked me that."  
"Just thought you might want to. Never mind." Dean rushes awkwardly.  
"Look, man. You're worried about me. I get it, and thank you. But I'm perfectly okay." Sam insists softly.  
Dean hums, completely and obviously unbelieving.  
Sam just sighs.  
"All right." he starts. "Where are we."  
"We are just outside of Grand Junction."  
"You know what, maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon." Sam punctuates with another sigh.  
"Sam, we dug around there for a week, we came up with nothing. If you want to find the thing that killed Jessica.."  
"..got to find Dad first." Sam finishes, a slight grumble to his voice again.  
"Dad disappearing, and this thing showing up again after 20 years?" Dean presses. "It's no coincidence. Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do."  
"It's weird man, these coordinates he left us, this, Black Water Ridge..." Sam starts, scowling at the folded map in his hands.  
"What about it?"  
"There's nothing there. It's just woods... Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"  
Dean just gives him an unidentifiable look before turning up the sound of an excited guitar solo, and driving on past a  _  
**Welcome to,**  
_**Lost Creek Colorado**  
sign.

~

"So Black Water ridge is pretty remote." Sam says as the boys pace inside a small lobby area. "It's cut off by these canyons here- rough terrain, dense forest, abandons silver and gold mines, all over the place..."  
Dean doesn't hide the fact that he isn't listening what so ever.  
"Dude, check out the size of this friggin' bear." a slight grimace on his face.  
Sam turns to him slowly, annoyed. And sees Dean just staring at picture of some hunter and a brown mass of fur. Dean just gives him a look as Sam walks over to look at the picture closer. "...and a dozen or more grizzlies in the area." Sam finishes with a sigh, more to himself. "It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

"You boys aren't planning to go out near Black Water Ridge, by any chance."  
Sam and Dean turn to a gruff, questioning voice from behind them.  
A middle aged man is leaning on a previously vacant desk across the small room from them. Loosely holding a cup of coffee, and garbed in a forest green shirt. A dull brass name tag on the front, and khaki clad legs crossed slightly.  
"Oh, no sir." Sam begins quickly. "We're Environmental-Study majors from U.C. Boulder- just working on a paper."  
Dean nods enthusiastically. "Recycle, man!" Dean adds, fist punctuating the air.  
Sam assumes bitchface level 2, and his mouth thins.  
"Bull." the man snorts, and the boy's faces drop quickly.  
Sam swallows and they avoid looking to each other.  
"You're friends with that Hailey girl, right?" the man asks, hand on hip.  
Dean considers this for a moment before, "..Yes."  
"Yes, we are, Ranger...Wilkinson." Den continues, following the man with his gaze as he begins pacing about the room.  
The old man chuckles egotistically, "Well, I'll tell you exactly what I told her. Her brother filled out a Backcountry permit, saying he wouldn't be back from Black Water until the 24th. So it's not exactly a missing person now, is it."  
Dean shakes his head compliantly.  
"Tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother is just fine."  
"We will." Dean assures, and Sam continues his scouting of the place for info.  
"Well, that Hailey girl's quite a pistol, huh?" Dean prompts, grinning.  
"That, is putting it mildly." the ranger agrees.  
"Actually," Dean begins. "You know what would help? Is if I could show her a copy of that Backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date." Dean negotiates.  
The ranger looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding once.

Dean walks towards the Impala, laughing, and satisfactorily glancing over the Permit.  
"What, are you cruising for a hookup?" Sam growls, coming up to Dean's left.  
"What do you mean?" Dean asks, with genuine confusion.  
"The coordinates point to Black Water Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, _why_ even talk to this girl?" he stresses, hand ghosting over the passenger side door handle.  
"I don't know," Dean starts. "Maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it." he says scowling at Sam's attitude.  
"What?" Sam challenges from the look.  
"Since when are you all 'shoot first, ask questions later' anyway?"  
"Since now." Sam answers. Opening the door and roughly sitting in the car, ignoring Dean's questioning smirk.  
"Oh really." Dean laughs to himself.

~

"You must be Hailey Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam." Dean says invitingly to a girl. Her image slightly darkened by the screen of a door, yet, he can still make out the halter t-shirt and shoulder length, wavy brown hair.  
"We're rangers with the park service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over." He explains while she looks at him curiously.  
"We wanted to ask you some questions about your brother, Tommy."  
She glances over him. Noting the lack of uniform and presence of leather. "Let me see some I.D." she prompts.  
Dean nods and fumbles in his pockets until he pulls out a bronze colored Park ranger card with his picture on it. "There you go." She looks it over, not quite trusting, but without an excuse. Dean just smiles.  
"Come on in." she invites, opening the screen.  
"Thanks." Dean says softly as they step forward gingerly. She eyes the impala. "That yours?"  
"Yeah." Dean smiles proudly.  
"Nice car." she says, beckoning over her shoulder for them to enter. Dean smirks, turning to Sam to mouth the words 'oh my God' back to him.

"So if Tommy's not due back for awhile, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam questions confidently, speaking to Hailey and her younger brother sitting at the table.  
"He checks in every day by cell. He emails photos, stupid little videos. But we haven't heard anything in over 3 days now.  
"Well maybe he can't get cell reception." Sam reasons.  
"He's got a satellite phone too."  
Sam nods, reproachful. Studying the table from a distance, seeming to search it's surface for answers.  
Dean plays along. "Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?"  
The younger boys silver ware hits the table roughly.  
"He wouldn't do that."  
Dean eyes him curiously.  
"Our parents are gone." Hailey insists. "It's just my two brothers, and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other." she explains.  
The boys nod in understanding. Sam's points with his two hands together, can I see the picture he sent you?" Hailey nods, "Yeah."  
Just moments later the computer is started up, and the pictures capture the screen. It beeps once as she clicks on the image of a young man in a tent. Dark crimson t-shirt, braided shell necklace and smile lighting up the picture. He's laughing at something and facing the photographer.  
"That's Tommy." Hailey explains. She clicks through a few of the pictures before coming to a video. "This was his last message."  
They all listen to Tommy's voice. The boys nitpicking the exact words and searching for anything in the background. There seems to be nothing, but Sam squints his eyes, head angled slightly towards the screen for a moment, wondering if he really saw that. The video stops and Dean speaks up, apparently he didn't see anything out of the ordinary.  
"Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Black Water Ridge first thing."  
"Then maybe I'll see you there." Hailey says moving away. Sam still sits, looking at the computer curiously, though, he shares a look with Dean when the words sink in.  
"Look. I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guide. I'm heading out in the morning and I'm gonna' find Tommy myself."  
Dean looks at her with respect, and understanding. "I think I know how you feel."  
They share a moment, before Sam speaks up softly. "Hey, you mind forwarding these to me?" he asks.  
"Sure." Hailey agrees.

~

Sam rolls his eyes at the never ending rock music. Trying to ignore it and the way the pool balls sound crashing against each other. "So, Black Water Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic-" he begins. Grabbing a leather folder from his bag, and placing it on the floor by his feet. Dean turns to him from the wall of their booth and glances back to the rest of the bar, before giving Sam his full attention.  
"Local campers mostly- but, still. This past April two hikers went missing out there." He continues excitedly, turning to face Dean full on. "They were never found."  
"Any before that?" Dean questions, eyeing the paper as Sam brings it out.  
"Yeah. In 1982, 8 different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack." Sam continues, also bringing out a newspaper and showing Dean the headline.  
"And again in 1959, and again, before that in 1936." Sam breaks off, opening his laptop to the Tommy's video message. "Every 23 years, just like clockwork." he punctuates and Dean frowns, impressed.  
"Okay. Watch this. Here's the clincher." Sam introduces and Dean leans forward to study the screen.  
"I downloaded that guy, Tommy's video to the laptop. And check this out."  
Sam plays a frame by frame representation of a shadow darting across the tent wall behind Tommy. Even at it's most calculated, the shadow is gone in only 3 frames. Dean's brow furrows at it, "Do it again." Sam rewinds it and starts it again.  
"That's 3 frames. It's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."  
Dean swats him in the shoulder quickly and Sam looks to him in shock for a second.  
"I told you something weird was going on!" Dean reminds him excitedly.    
"Yeah." Sam agrees. "I got one more thing." Dean blinks at him.  
"In '59, one camper survived the supposed Grizzly Attack, just a kid- barely crawled out of the woods alive." Dean nods approvingly. "Is there a name?"  
Sam just smiles.

~

"Look Ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this." The gruffly man spoke to them. His voice was rough with age. "It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a -"  
"Grizzly?" Sam interrupted. "That's what attacked them?"  
The man froze, staring off for a moment before nodding, and turning away from the boys.  
"The other people that went missing that year-" Dean presses, stepping forward. "Those bear attacks too."  
The old man just leans against his table, neither confirming nor denying, busying himself with steadying his cigarette.  
"What about all the people that went missing this year?"  
Dean presses on. Sounding curious, but his words heavy. Knowing.  
"Same thing?"  
The man says nothing, and Sam turns away from this to search out the space behind Dean, who carries on.  
"If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it."  
The man comes to life at this. Standing up straight and looking to Dean apprehensively. Clutching his cigarette with his fingers, and moving forward slightly.  
"I seriously doubt that." he shares.  
"Anyways, I don't see the difference it would make." He says, defeated. Sitting down and closing himself off again. "You wouldn't believe me... Nobody ever did.  
Sam steps forward. His voice gentle, persuasive and understanding. Like a lawyer comforting a witness at the stand.  
"Mr. Shaw... " he comes to crouch down to the mans level. "...what did you see."  
The elderly man sighs, staring off to the wall at a point behind the boys.  
"...nothing..."  
"It moved too fast to see. It hid too well."  
"I heard it, though. A roar."  
"- like, no man or animal I ever heard."  
Sam speaks again, "It came at night..?"  
The man nodded.  
"Got inside your tent?"  
The man looked to Sam, "It got inside our cabin."  
"I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window. It didn't break a door.....it unlocked it." he rasped. Sam turns away in remorse, Dean tilts his head back to the ceiling for answers and it holds nothing for him. They allow the man to continue at his own pace.  
"Do you know of a bear that could do something like that?" Sam turned to him again, listening intently.  
"I didn't even wake up until I heard my parents screaming."  
"It killed them?" Sam questioned.  
"Not yet. Dragged them off into the night."  
Dean's head jerks to the side, trying to dislodge the imagery.  
"Why it left me alive-" the man continued somberly, head shaking slowly, eyes wide and fearful like a much younger child, full of questions and confusion the point on the floor wasn't answering. "I've been asking myself that ever since."  
Sam looks straight down, understanding the pain of that 'why' all to well.  
"It did leave me this, though." The old man said, looking to the boys again and fingering the collar of his shirt. The boys look to him and wait, eyes absorbing every inch of skin that the main reveals, until they see it.  
Four vertical lines, about 8 inches in length each, half an inch thick. Starting just on top of the collar bone on the mans left side and straight down his upper chest. Their gazes intensify as they gather as much information from the mark as they can, as fast as they can. Dean's head inclining and Sam straightening his back.  
The man straightens his shirt out before speaking, though his hands never leave the cloth.  
"There is something evil in those woods."  
The boys share a look, before turning to Mr. Shaw as he spoke again.  
"It was some sort of a demon."

~

"Spirits and Demons don't have to unlock doors if they want inside. They just go through the walls." Dean says confidently as they turn around the corner and move down the hallway. Though his voice suggest he's still slightly shaken from the man's tale. Sam draws in a breath, "So it's probably something else, something corporeal."  
" 'Corporeal?' " Dean questions, all hint of discomfort gone again. "Excuse me, professor."  
"Shut up." Sam barked. "So what do you think?"  
"The claws, the speed that it moves- It could be a Skinwalker, maybe a Black Dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature. And it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it." Dean says confidently, turning to Sam.

~

They exit the building. Dean heading straight for the trunk of the Impala, positioned just under a street light in the dark. Sam just behind him, as Dean props up the panel with the familiar sawed-off shotgun. Immediately grabbing an olive green, army style duffle bag, and putting different weapons inside. Sam comes to the side and begins looking over inventory as well, adding the occasional blade.  
"We can **not** , let that Hailey girl go in there." Sam starts.  
"Oh yeah, what are we gonna' tell her- she can't go into the woods because of a big, scary monster?" Dean grumbles back.

"Yeah." Sam says. Wearing his I'm-completely-serious-don't-test-me, bitchface level 3.  
"Her brother's missing, Sam." Dean turns to him. "She's not just gonna' sit this out.  
"You know, we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend." Dean's eyebrows furrow in frustration with every word.  
"So finding Dad's not enough?" He challenges as Dean takes the bag out of the trunk and prepares to close up. Sam stands up straight, shoving the sawed-off, and slamming the trunk over the closing panel. "Now we gotta' babysit, too?"  
Dean only looks at him for a moment.  
"What." Sam breaths harshly.  
"Nothing." Dean says, face and voice expressionless before roughly shoving the bag to Sam's chest. They both scowl at each other for a moment before Dean completely turns away. Leaving Sammy in the road.

~

The boys drive up on the guide giving his rifle a once over on the tailgate of his truck, while Hailey adjusts her backpack straps, preparing for the trek.  
"I'll tell you again," he says without looking at her. "I don't think Ben should come."  
She sighs quietly before walking towards him. "Roy..." She starts before he cuts her off.  
"Look. You're paying me good money to keep everybody safe and I think Ben's safest at home. The 3 of them turn towards the car, and Hailey approaches as it comes to a stop. Hands on her hips and a smile tugging at her lips as the car doors open.  
"You guys got room for two more?" Dean asks, waking up to her with a smile on his face. Sam didn't spare her a glance. Walking directly to the back of the Impala, and opening the second door on that side.  
"Wait, you want to come with us?" She asks Dean as Sam walks up, slinging the bag over his shoulder.  
"Who are these guys?" Roy questions.  
"Apparently, this is all the Park Service could muster up for search and rescue." Hailey replies.  
"Your rangers?"  
"That's right." Dean nods as Sam stalks past them towards the trail.  
"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" Hailey scoffs.  
"Oh, sweetheart I don't do shorts." Dean says seriously, shaking his head before breaking off with a smirk, already walking towards Sam, and past Ranger Rick.  
"Oh you think this is funny?" Roy's gaze follows Dean, who pauses to turn back towards him slightly. "It's dangerous backcountry out there. Her brother might be hurt."  
Dean looks at him incredulously. Sharing a look with Sam that just says _Can you believe this guy.!?_ Before turning back.  
"Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be." He grins for a moment. "We just want to help them find their brother. That's all." He says gesturing to Ben and Hailey. Roy looks to them for reassurance, and when they don't say anything he just sighs, and they follow the Winchesters into the wood.

~

Tommy doesn't remember much. He's been in and out of conciseness for... he doesn't know how long. It's almost completely dark in the...cave? It seems like a cave. But light is filtering from the ceiling from what looks like boards. A manmade cave... Probably a mine. Tommy closes his eyes and leans his head to the side, on one of his arms. He's dangling from the ceiling by his wrists and everything is aching. He just takes a moment to breathe and try to relax. The water dripping finally reaches his ears and he realizes he's absolutely starving, and his throat is burning and dry. Then he hears someone approaching. Shuffling footsteps...and a low growl... reminding him it's a some _thing._ Gary starts to gasp, his noise slowly getting louder and Tommy can't take it. He looks.  
The creature is silhouetted against what must be the entrance to this part of the mine/cave. Lanky, long nimble limbs and claws make it's way to Gary who has begun to yell in terror. The creature gets right up to him, and when it growls Tommy slides his toes on the ground to spin him away, fighting tears as he listens to the monster ripping into his friend, and the strangled cries of pain and unsaturated terror. Tommy isn't hungry anymore.

~

In case you didn't know. Dean is not actually a ranger. He's not really a forest, hike type of guy, at all. So he let's Ranger Rick Rogers take the lead, though he stays close, just in case. Hailey behind him and Ben following. Leaving Sam to be the caboose in this awkward pack. He doesn't know whether Sam is looking out for the monster, or still pouting. _Sammy_ was a bit of a diva on her 'week' last night, and all morning. So Dean had no idea. Though, he has to admit, he's pretty impressed by the kid. He didn't take Hailey for the complaining type from the get go, but he wasn't sure about Ben. But he's been keeping up. He's never the first to ask for a break, and never the last to stand when they start up again.

"So Roy," He begins, tired of the silence. "You do a little hunting?"  
Dean ignores the glance Roy gives him in honor of this peaceful little picnic feel they've got going on. "Yeah, more than a little." The man replies.  
"Uh huh," he hums nonchalantly. "And what kind of furry critters do you hunt?"  
"Mostly buck, sometimes bear." Roy answers crudely. Dean rolls his eyes. _Okay, we can play that game._  
"Tell me, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" Dean presses, taking the lead. Dean is dragged backwards when Roy fists at the back of his jacket, pulling him closer and turning Dean towards him, glaring at him the whole way. Dean give him an expressionless face. Sam steps forward, coming up beside Hailey and Ben, ready to assist Dean if the need arises. That in itself puts Dean in a better mood, knowing someone has his back.  
"Whatcha doin' Roy." he antagonizes. Roy ignores him, pushing Dean back a little, then leaning forward to grab a stick. Dean looks at it curiously, until Roy plunges it down into the Earth. It barely hits home before a bear trap claps together, snapping the branch into pieces. Dean, Hailey, and Ben flinch back at it's echoing clang, but are otherwise motionless.  
Roy looks at Dean, smiling for the first time. "You should watch where you're stepping.. Ranger." he says softly. Dean inclines his head, fighting the smile before pursing his lips. He could get used to this guy. Or use him as bait.  
He chuckles awkwardly, gesturing to the ground and turning to Sam. "It's a bear trap."  
Sam looks at it expressionless, allowing Hailey and Ben to move before him again.

"You didn't pack provisions." Hailey determines, coming up to Dean's left. "You guys are carrying a duffle bag. You're not Rangers, so who the hell are you." she demands. He turns to her slightly, though continues walking, until she grabs his bag and turns him back to her. _Well apparently it's Man-Handle Dean, day_. He looks off past her for a moment wondering what to say. Ben walks past and Sam pauses behind her, waiting for a signal. Dean shrugs, and Sam turns away immediately to catch up with Ben.  
Dean let's out a breath, and begins to explain.  
"Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our Father. He might be here. We don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat." he reasons.  
"Why didn't you just tell me that from the start." Hailey sighs in exasperation.  
"I'm telling you now." he pursues. "Besides it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a women...ever." she doesn't reply. "So, we okay?"  
After a moment she answers softly. "Yeah, okay."  
"And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions!?" Dean mocks her audacity, pulling out a 3/4 of the way empty, family bag of peanut M &M's. Flashing a grin before sticking his hand in and walking away.  
She smiles, shaking her head as he distances himself.

~

"This is it. Black Water Ridge." Roy tells them as they reach a small clearing.  
"What coordinates are we at?" Sam questions, coming up beside him.  
Roy takes out a pocket GPS and studies it for a moment. "35 and minus 111." he answers. Sam steps away a few paces, scowling at the forest like it has personally offended him, and Dean comes up to his side, studying their surroundings.  
"You hear that?" he asks.  
"Yeah." Sam whispers. "Not even crickets." Dean nods slowly, studying the trees surrounding them. Roy interrupts their thought process and both boys turn to him as he speaks. "I'm going to go take a look around."  
"You shouldn't go off by yourself." Sam cautions him sternly.  
Dean looks at him, cross, as he chuckles. "That's sweet." And Sam rounds on him too.  
"Don't worry about me." and Roy pushes in between them, heading for the woods beyond.  
_Your funeral._ Dean ponders as he flicks his eyebrows up. He then turns to the group left, studying each of them. "All right, everybody stays together." They look to him as he adds, "Let's go." And they follow in stride.

They spend about 15 minutes scouring the trees in the area when Roy calls to Hailey. "Hailey! Over here!" She whips her head in that direction and takes off running, slowing to a jog as the others follow. And then she stops, the campsite at her feet. Well, it used to be a campsite. Now it just looked like a Sports Academy threw up half digested camping equipment everywhere. Everything from water bottles, to chairs, to blankets were scattered all over. Both tents shredded to Hell, and splattered with blood.  
"Looks like a grizzly." Ben murmured.  
Dean breaks off first, pacing through the camp to look for any indication it wasn't a grizzly. And the others begins to spread out and look for any indication at all.  
"Tommy?" Hailey begins to call lightly through the area.  
"Tommy!" Her voice increased with volume and desperation as she moves to the other side of the clearing.  
Sam hisses at her to be quiet, running after her, and putting his arm in front of her lightly until he's sure she isn't going to move off.  
"Why?" she asks him cautiously.  
"Something might still be out there." Sam replies, scanning the trees and undergrowth surrounding them.  
"Sam." Dean calls from a distance, and they both turn in the direction. Sam looks to her to make sure she's going to stay, and then moves towards his brother. After a moment he finds Dean crouched down, looking relaxed and waiting to show Sam what he found. Sam lowers himself down next glances at the ground until Dean speaks.  
"The bodies were dragged from the camp site." he sighs tiredly. Then he looks back to the dirt. "But here, the tracks just vanish. It's weird."  
They stand together, both frowning.  
"I'll tell you what." he continues. It's no Skinwalker or Black Dog." Sam studies the tracks a heartbeat longer before following Dean back to ruins.

Dean comes up on Hailey, crouching in the dirt and holding a silver black berry. It's screen caved, soaked in blood and sprinkled with dirt. Tears are silently moving down her cheeks. She sniffles quietly as he crouches behind her, looking at the shattered phone.  
"He could still be alive." Dean says encouragingly. She turns to him, not sure to what to make of the man in front of her, and Dean swallows apprehensively.  
"Help!" a man's scream pierces the calm after the storm, and Dean stands quickly, scanning the woods. Everyone freezes, for just a moment.  
"Please! Somebody help me!" The man calls again. Roy flashes past Dean, preparing his gun, and Dean is after him immediately. Followed by Hailey, Sam, and Ben. They spread out a bit, paces varying, and Sam takes the lead though they're all headed in the same direction. The voice calling out 'help' all the while.  
Everyone pauses in a clearing the voice had seen to be coming from, eyes looking everywhere, searching desperately for any sign of struggle or a trail.  
But even the voice ceases.  
"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Hailey questions aloud. Sam finds himself once again looking to the trees and he begins to back away quickly, "Everybody back to camp." He instructs. And leads the way through the woods, the group staying in a line this time as they jog back the way they came.  
They reach the site of their own camp, to find everything gone.  
"Our packs!" Hailey discovers missing.  
"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone." Roy grumbles.  
"What the hell's going on!?" Hailey demands, irritated.  
"It's smart." Sam barks harshly. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."  
"You mean someone." Roy chuckles somewhat maniacally. "Some, nut job, out there just stole all our gear."  
Sam comes up to Dean's shoulder. "I need to speak with you...In private."  
_Oh, **now** you want to speak to me, Samantha.  
_ Dean follows him to the clump of woods just outside the campsite edge. Sam whipping around as soon as he figures they're a good distance.  
"Okay, let me see Dad's journal." he snaps. Dean hands it out immediately and Sam doesn't waste a heartbeat to grab it and begin flipping through the pages.  
"All right. Check that out." Sam turns the book around and hands it back to Dean. The white lined pages covered. On the right, Native American symbols are etched out, their  English translation organized next to each. On the left though, is a cave style drawing of a lanky figure. Sort of like a man, but stretched out. The description and story surrounding it.  
"Oh. Come on." Dean huffs, recognizing it. "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods, or Northern Michigan." he grins questioningly. "I've never even heard of one this far west." Sam doesn't even look him, lips pursed slightly as he studies a very interesting leaf to the right. "Think about it, Dean. The claws. The way it can mimic a human voice." Sam trails off. "Great." Dean declares, an unamused smile on his face. "Well this is useless." He gestures with his gun. Sam just grins right back, walking past and pressing the Journal into Dean's chest. He thinks better and turns back to lean into Dean's space.  
"We have to get these people to safety." He hisses, before moving off again. Leaving Dean alone in the trees to sigh and pout.

Sam makes it back to the campsite, barking orders the moment he steps into range. "All right, listen up. It's time to go. Things have gotten more complicated." He declares as he moves through the space, trailing off as he makes it to the far side of the site, and he freezes, searching the trees again.  
"What?" Hailey questions.  
"Kid, don't worry." Roy says to him. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it." He finishes glaring at Sam. Who turns to him, his voice low. "It's not me I'm worried about." And Roy turns to him, seeming to dare Sam to say anything against his 'wilderness' skills.  
"If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave, now." Sam pushes again. Dean scowls at Roy as he continues to speak, again.  
"One, you're talking nonsense. And two, you're in no position to give anybody orders." He finishes, his voice rising.  
"Relax." Dean dictates.  
"We never should have let you come out in the first place." Sam informs him. "I'm trying to protect you."  
" _You_ , protect me!?" Roy falters. "I was hunting in these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight." He snarls, pressing into Sam's space. Dean stiffens and takes a step forward, stopping as Sam pushes back.  
"Yeah? It's a damn-near-perfect hunter." Sam punctuates every word. "It's smarter than you. And It's gonna' hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here." He educates forcefully, baring his teeth in a grin. Roy laughs in his face, shoving Sam's shoulder in mocking good nature. "You know you're crazy, right?"  
"Yeah?" Sam snaps. His volume increases, "You ever hunt a-"  
And Dean steps in, putting his hands on Sam's chest and walking him backwards. Hailey yelling nonsense to try and calm the men, while Dean speaks only to Sam. "Chill out." he barks, ignoring Roy's laughter in the background.  
"Stop it." Hailey says, directly to Roy. "Everyone just stop." She says to the group, stepping up to Dean who still has a hand on Sam's chest.  
"Look. Tommy might still be alive." she begged, her voice cracking with effort. "And I'm not leaving here without him." Her eyes train on Dean, hoping he'll understand. He lowers his gaze before turning to a now calmly standing Sam. "It's getting late." he avoids. "This thing is a good hunter in the day," he sighs. "But an unbelievable hunter at night." Sam continues to watch the trees, and Roy, noticing, begins to look up and around them as well. Though, Hailey's steel blue eyes never leave Dean's. "We'll never beat it. Not in the dark." He pauses, searching each face before continuing. "We need to settle in and protect ourselves." He moves past her, towards the center of their clearing.  
"How." she follows.

~

  
Dean uses a stick to scratch at the surface of the dirt, drawing a symbol the size of foyer rug into it, before turning back to the others, gathered at the fire.  
"One more time.." Hailey begins carefully, "That's-"  
"Anasazi symbols." Dean replies more despotically then he meant. "It's for protection." He tries to amend half heartedly. "The Wendigo can't cross over them."  
Roy laughs from his post in the shadows.  
"Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy." Dean retorts. Stabbing his branch into the heart of the flames, and then moving away from the fire towards Sammy, pouting away from the group.  
"You want to tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?" Dean murmurs to him, settling down on the same log.  
"Dean.." Sam starts slowly, gesturing softly with his hands.  
"No, you're not fine." Dean interrupts abruptly. "You're like a powder keg, man. It's not like you." Dean chuckles nervously. "I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?"  
Dean pauses, and Sam takes a shaky breath.  
"Dad's...not here." he steadies with progress. "I mean, that much we know, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?" he ends a bit angrily.  
"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean concurs softly, staring off into the shadows.  
"To tell you the truth... I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek." Dean turns back to Sam.  
"Then let's get these people back to town, and let's hit the road." Dean turns away, studying Hailey and Ben. "-go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?" Sam sighs deeply, frustrated to no end and Dean turns to look at him sympathetically for a moment. Then he stands quickly, turning to face Sam and bringing out the journal. He crouches in front of his brother, and presents it to him. Patting it for emphasis.  
"This is why."  
Sam looks up to him.  
"This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession. Everything he know about every evil thing is in, _here._ And he passed it onto us."  
Sam considers this, scowling slightly in thought.  
"I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know.  
Saving people, hunting things...  
The Family Business."

Sam jerks his head to the side, sighing and clenching his teeth. He brings his hands up quickly to wipe them down his face, an anxious tick. "That makes no sense, why-" he forces out a rough breath. "Why doesn't he just call us? Why doesn't he tell us what he wants, tell us where he is!?"  
"...I don't know..." Dean sighs. "But the way I see it, Dad's given us a job to do. And I intend to do it."  
"Dean...no. I, gotta' find Dad. I gotta' find Jessica's killer." He breaks off, tears beginning to well in his eyes. He looks up, begging gravity to help him hold them in. His voice cracks as he whispers, "It's.. all I can think about." Dean looks to his younger brother. Heart breaking at the pain he can't take from him. The pain he couldn't save him from.  
"Sam, we'll find them. I promise." He reassures to the best of his ability. Promising to himself and his brother that he would do anything to keep that promise.  
"Listen to me. You've got to prepare yourself." He tells Sam.  
"This search could take a while. And all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna' kill you." Dean exploits.  
_Damn if I let that happen._  "You gotta' have patience man."  
Sam lowers his head shaking it for a moment as he stores this information for later before looking back to his big brother.  
"How do you do it?" he gasps horribly. "How does _Dad_ do it?"  
Dean searches for the answer, finding it to the right, sitting by the fire.  
"Well for one, them." he tilts his head towards the siblings, shoulder to shoulder. Sharing warmth, and comfort with the other. Sam looks to them, like he's noticing them, really, for the first time.  
"I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to Hell, maybe we can help some others. It makes things... a little bit more bearable." Sam ponders this with a soft expression. Not looking to Dean until he's prompted again.  
"And I'll tell you what else helps..."  
Their eyes lock.  
"Killing as many evil Sons of Bitches as I possibly can." Dean punctuates with a knowing smile, and after a moment, Sam refrains from fighting the one tugging at the corner of his lips.  
"Help!" a man's voice shouts into the clearing. "Help me!"  
Everyone gets to their feat and backs towards the center, by the fire. Roy cocks his gun, while Sam and Dean flick on their flashlights and begin scanning the trees.  
The voice still calls, rough with anguish and pain.  
"It's trying to draw us out." Dean notifies, his voice clear, and confident again.  
"Just stay cool, stay put." he soothes and instructs.  
"Inside the magic circle?" Roy drawls. _  
Got half a mind to push you outside and show you how magical it can be for the rest of us._ Dean glares at him as the voice continues to plead to the air.  
Growls slash through the air, cutting off the voice.  
"Okay... that's no grizzly..." Roy murmurs.  
The men all look to the brush, scanning for any sign of movement. Hailey grips Ben and they move, pressing against the base of one of the large trees inside the camp perimeters. "It's okay. We'll be alright.." She attempts to calm Ben and herself.  
The man's voice screams into the air, and Dean walks over to Roy, their guns both trained in the direction of the sound.  
Then a high pitch snarl comes from the brush to Hailey and Ben's right, making the men jump and spin to that direction. There's crashing all around them, roars, snarls, and growls coming from everywhere and nowhere. Making it seem like the group is surrounded, which to an extent, they might as well be.  
Roy's shot rings in the clearing, just as a pale figure blurs across his scope. His gun follows it's path as the creature roars at him and then runs again. Roy fires after it and whoops triumphantly when the creature yowls.  
"I hit it!" he calls, and sprints after the creature.  
"Roy, no!" Dean yells after him, but Roy either ignores him or doesn't hear. Either way, he disappears into the shadows. "Roy!" Dean calls more desperately, looking back and forth between Sam and the direction Roy ran before making a decision.  
"Don't move!" he commands the youngest hikers, and he and Sam race after Roy, and the angry Wendigo.  
"It's over here!" Roy yells excitedly. While the boys attempt to order him back.  
Roy shouts again, but this time it's cut off, and Roy is lifted into the tree by his neck. Snapped, and wrapped in spindly long fingers.  
The brothers break through the trees, to nothingness.

~

Birds chirp. Officiating the morning and another sleepless night. Sam doesn't need to try to ignore them. He leans against a large jagged stump, his knees bent, and hands wrapped around his fathers journal. His right fingers dancing in a black and silver chain, attached to the book. His eyes glazed over, staring as he retreats to memories of fire, and broken hearts. The way the light shone on Jess' face of shock and fear... highlighting the strands in her hair. Then his mind flashes to his fingers brushing over the same chain, this time around her neck as he brings her close. Her teeth scraping lightly on his shoulder as she smiles into the embrace. Fire and laughter. Black and silver.  
The birds sing on.

~

"I don't..." Hailey mumbles. "I mean, these types of things- They aren't supposed to be real." She determines, and Dean allows her the time to get over her shock as he investigates the four line row of scourges in the trees at the original campsite. The one in ruin.  
"I wish I could tell you different." he says to her.  
"Well, how do we know it's not out there watching us?" She demands.  
"We don't." Dean answers, seemingly unconcerned and she just looks at him unamused.  
"But we're safe for now."  
She studies him for a moment. Multiple unanswered questions flashing in her mind. She picks one at random. "How do you know about this stuff?"  
Dean looks to her squarely, finally. "It, kind of runs in the family." and he moves away from her again.  
Sam strides into the clearing with the others, breathing a bit heavier. "Hey." he greets Hailey and Ben. "So, we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I, for one, want to kill this evil son of a bitch." he quotes, looking to Dean who grins warmly, stepping forward. "Well, hell. You know I'm in."  
The Winchesters look to the siblings.

"Wendigo is a Cree Indian word that means, 'evil that devours'." Sam explains.  
"They're hundreds of years old." Dean jumps in. "Each one was a man, sometimes an Indian, or other times a Frontiersman or a miner or hunter." He lists, pacing around the group in excitement for the hunt.  
"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Hailey asks.  
"Well, it's always the same." Dean continues. "During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help- He becomes a cannibal, to survive, eating other members of his Tribe or Camp."  
"Like the Donnor party." Ben speaks up, for once.  
"That's right." Sam nods. "Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities- Speed, strength, immortality..."  
"You eat enough of it, over the years, you become this, less-than-human thing. You're always hungry." Dean closes by standing still for more than 3 seconds.  
"So, if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Hailey asks, voice trembling again.  
Dean sighs, looking to Sam, who just nods. "You're not gonna' like it."  
"Tell me." she dictates.  
"More than anything, a Wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time. When it's awake, it keeps it's victims alive. Storing them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. And we got to track it back there."  
"And then how do we stop it?"  
"Well," Dean scoffs, irritated at no one. "Guns are useless. And so are knives." Ben swallows a groan and looks to Sam.  
"Basically, we gotta' torch the sucker." Dean declares, holding up a few items used to make molotovs.

~

Dean and Sam make up the front and back, respectively, of their little train. Everyone listening, and scanning the forest for any change.  
"Dean." Sam calls after an hour of the trek, his eyes grazing over marks in the trees, varying 10-30ft above them. "What is it?" the older brother asks, he glances up to the canopy. Four clawed, slashes are everywhere, the gouges highlighted red of varying shades. From almost black, to burgundy, to scarlet. Blood, in deviate ages. Dean gives Sam a sideways look with a mixed expression of dread and confusion.  
"You know, I was thinking that those claw prints, were so clear, and distinct..." Sam huffs at Dean, his voiced straining with emphasis and the attempted whispering. "...they were almost to easy to follow."  
Dean transfers this look straight ahead, considering what this could mean.  
The growling begins, loud, harsh, and close behind, the boys whip around to Hailey and Ben, and the group of 4 arrange themselves back to back. Watching the forest. Every once in awhile they see a pale blur flash past for a heartbeat before it's gone. The snarls circling them constantly.  
It seems to stop. And the group positions a tree at their back, Hailey letting the bark press into her shoulders a bit. But after a moment, she notices a slow, steady dripping from above and landing on her jacket. She rolls her head upwards, and screams.  
She flings herself from the tree, hitting the ground hard just before the limp body of Roy has a chance to flatten her. Sam goes to her immediately, and Dean places his hands to Roy's neck, checking for a pulse and discovering something worse.  
"His neck's broken." He declares quickly, and the growling continues from one direction, stalking around them much slower than before.  
Sam picks Hailey off the ground as Dean stands.  
"Okay, run, run. Go, go, go!" Dean pushes them forward, constantly glancing back, but not taking his hands off Ben and Sam until they get a good pace going.  
They widen their trail again as they all give each other room to sprint, and Sam turns back when he hears Ben hit the ground. "Come on. I got ya'. I got ya'." he repeats, wrapping an arm around the boy's chest and pulling him off the ground.

Dean takes the lead, beckoning Hailey to keep up and stay with him, but he stops abruptly, flinging his arm out to Soccer Mom Hailey, when the creature appears in front of him.

Ben sprints after the sound of Hailey's scream, Sam close behind.  
"Hailey!" the kid calls when they reach the spot the screams came from, and both boys slow to look around. Sam picks up the broken bottle of the unlit molotov. He reels around, searching for his brother.  
"Dean!"

~

Sam and Ben walk cautiously through the woods, searching for something to track the Wendigo by. "If it keeps it's victims alive, why would it kill Roy?" Ben asks, his voice wrecked from keeping back the tears and sobs.  
"Honestly? I think because Roy shot at it. He pissed it off.  
Ben nods slightly in understanding, looking to the ground a moment before coming to a stop, and kneeling down to finger something in the dirt. "They went this way!" he calls to Sam, and the taller man jogs over to see what Ben found.  
Rainbow colored candy litters the spot. Just a few pieces, but definitely making a little trail through the woods.  
Sam chuckles at the irony. "It's better than bread crumbs." he huffs. The two share a laugh and then head after their siblings.

~

  
Eventually they come to an abandoned structure of sorts. A small, rusted aluminum heap of a shed, that Sam can look over the top of easily. He steps around it, searching the area and isn't surprised but the mining entrance he finds. A red and white sign warning the general public to avoid entering. Ben looks to Sam in anguish, eyeing the sign, and Sam only replies with a shrug before stepping in to the narrow opening. Ben follows a bit slower, giving the light filtered forest a last look.

Sam figures following the mine cart tracks are as good a plan as any. They can be followed back out to make a quick escape without getting lost. And he really hasn't seen any other direction to go. So yeah, they'll do. They walk along for a moment, light coming from something up ahead, so they keep the flashlight beam constantly on the walls in their path. Eventually, seeing other tunnels branch out, but the pair avoids them, continuing on.  
A low growling begins to echo from a tunnel to their right, and the boys step foreword and into a dip in the wall. Sam pushing Ben further into it, and peering around the edge to keep an eye out for the creature.  
The Wendigo shuffles past, they can see the silhouette as it makes it's way outside from where Sam and Ben had just came. "Oh my go-" Ben starts to gasp, stepping away like he's about to bolt, and Sam leaps on him. Wrapping him in a one armed hug to pull him back, and using his other hand to cover the teens mouth. Sam doesn't let go until the Wendigo is gone, and then they back track it's path, heading down that tunnel. They see nothing for awhile, until the floor creeks underneath their feet, and gives out with a splintering crash. Ben hits the ground first, gasping, followed closely by Sam who rolls over to his back with they a groan.  
They lie their for a moment, getting over the shock of having the floor literally fall out beneath them, and then Ben jumps back, stumbling into Sam who wraps a protective arm around him, eyeing the not-so-small collection of human skulls and other assorted bones. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay." Sam soothes the panting boy. They sit for a moment, breathing heavily, and Sam just makes sure Ben isn't going to freak out and run off. And then he turns his head to the right, and sees Dean and Hailey. Shackled, and hanging by their wrist from the ceiling.  
"Dean!" Sam calls to him, fisting his jacket the second he's close enough to make contact. "Hailey!" Ben sputters, gripping her face and rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks, trying desperately to get her to wake.  
Dean's eyes flutter and he stares into nothingness while he comes to conciseness. He groans, trying to clear his throat, muttering a "Ugh....yeah." When Sam asks if he's alright.  
"Hailey. Hailey! Wake up, come on. Wake up" Ben is still trying to wake her up.  
Hailey finally begins coughing while Sam lowers an unsteady Dean to the ground, gripping him hard while Dean finds his land legs, groaning the whole time.  
In a moment both Dean and Hailey are leaning against one of the walls, catching their breaths and rubbing their eyes.  
"You sure you're okay?" Sam asks Dean, wondering if there is any injuries Dean just can't feel with his grogginess.  
"Yep!" Dean snips, strained. "Yep. I'm fine. Where is it."  
"It's gone for now." Sam assures him.  
Hailey only sits long enough to catch her breath, and then she's up, slowly making her way to the form of her brother, dangling from the ceiling, where he's been the past 4 days at the mercy of a monster who used to be a man.  
Tears run down her face as she approaches him, Sam and Ben just behind her.  
"Tommy..?" she sobs, hesitating. Then she reaches for his cheek to ease his head up.  
Instead, the previously lifeless Tommy shoots up, gasping roughly for air, and sounding like someone who smokes 2 packs a day. His eyes unfocused and head lolling weakly.  
"Cut him down!" Hailey instructs, both her hands wrapped in his shirt as she tries to steady him. The 3 of them lower him to the ground, Ben holding him up from behind while Hailey crouches in front, gripping his hands and sobbing into them, relieved. "It's okay. It's okay, we're going to get you home."  
Sam looks over at Dean, who's scooted along the floor a short distance and is rifling through one of the stolen bags. Dean brings out a pair of emergency flares, and hoists himself to his feet, trying to avoid leaning on the wall. "Check it out." He alerts to every one, gesturing with the find.  
"Flare guns."  
Sam grins, "Those will work." he chuckles. And the Dean returns the toothy grin.

~

The newly assembled group of 5 maneuver through the tunnels now. Trying to find a way out that does not include climbing up the 20ft shaft Sam and Ben used to get in. And as an added bonus, everyone else was unconscious when they entered the cavern, so it's really educated guess work on Dean's part, while he leads the way. Hailey supports Tommy, and Ben supports Hailey because she's really not cut out for that right now. Sam walks beside them ready to assist Dean or the small family.  
They all freeze when they hear the growling up ahead, Sam stepping forward to Dean's side, flare gun ready.  
"Looks like someone's home for supper." Dean says, really not helping.  
Hailey glares at him from behind, "We'll never outrun it."  
Dean turns to her, but keeps his thoughts to himself.  
Dean looks to Sam, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"  
"Yeah, I think so."  
Dean nods, accepting. "Alright, stay with Sam. He's going to get you out of here."  
"What are you going to do?" Hailey asks him.  
_Pull a Breakfast club reference out of my ass.  
_ He just winks.

"It's chow time you freakin' bastard!" he hollers into the still air and stalks off quickly down the tunnel straight ahead. "Yeah, that's right! Bring it on, baby! I taste goooood!" he drawls angrily.  
Sam sighs for a moment, looking after him, then leads the group to the right towards some light filtering in from wood panels above. Dean can still be heard in the distance shouting profanities.  
"Alright, come on, hurry!" Sam beckons to the 3 bystanders, leading the way quickly through their tunnel.

~

Meanwhile.  
Dean's left arm is clutched tight to his body. His shoulder wrenched at some point, probably when he was being hung from the ceiling. "Hey!" he continues to shout, looking over all the tunnels he comes across, flare gun pointed, and ready.  
"Hey, you want some white meat bitch!?" he questions the Wendigo loudly. "I'm right here!" He screams pointedly into a vertical tunnel above his head, hoping it will echo around and draw the Wendigo towards him. Nothing happens and he moves on.

~

Sam's group steps out from their tunnel, and into the main underpass. He faces the right, deeper into the mine, and takes a step back when he hears the growling. "Get him out of here." he says to Ben and Hailey, nodding towards the exit.  
"Sam, no." Hailey instructs, not wanting to leave both the saviors in the tunnels alone.  
"Go." he tells her, and when no one moves he looses his patience. "Go!" he shouts over the group, commanding, in a tone not accepting refusal. They hesitate a moment longer before Ben begins pushing Hailey and Tommy out, nodding to Sam once and then turning away. Sam watches for a heartbeat, and then crosses to the other side, pressing himself just beyond the bend of a smaller, offset tunnel. Listening to the water drops and silently begging the monster to appear.  
He hears the almost silent growling, but it's not coming from the tunnel that leads deeper into the mine. He scowls in confusion, trying to work out the sound. And then he freezes. Expression less.  
He turns his head slowly over his right shoulder, blanking a bit when then Wendigo roars at him. Sam throws himself at the ground, rolling over immediately and shooting at the monster.  
But it's too fast, and it ducks out of the way, disappearing down the tunnel. Sam turns and begins sprinting after Hailey and her brothers.  
"Sam!" she calls to him when she hears the shot. "Come on!" He shouts, his shape appearing as he enters their space from the darkness. "Hurry, hurry, hurry! Go!" Sam pleads, pushing them forcefully towards the exit and constantly looking over his shoulder. The Wendigo follows, hissing and snarling. Sam leads them down the way he believed they had come, but they reach a dead end.  
"Get behind me." he instructs, and pulls them back towards the wall. His right hand on Ben's chest, and his entire left arm forcing Tommy and Hailey to cower behind him.  
She grips his sleeve as the Wendigo stalks around the corner, hissing and snarling. It comes ever closer, crouching slightly until it stands not 15 feet away. Then it tilts it's head back and roars.  
"Hey!" a shout disrupts the display, and the Wendigo turns, snarling at Dean.  
Who responds eloquently with a pulling of the trigger, engulfing the Wendigo in sparks. The center of the Wendigo begins to glow, bleeding light and the skin decaying rapidly as it howls in pain. The glow spreading and eventually erupting into to flames, and the Wendigo sinks to the ground, screaming.  
Sam releases his grip on the 3, and looks to Dean's satisfied grin.  
"Not bad, huh?" he boasts. Sam and Hailey just shaking their heads and chuckling, Ben and Tommy still looking at the dead, inflamed creature in shock.

~

Back in the town, the police have questions and an ambulance sits, ready and waiting to take Tommy to the hospital. Ben recounts his side of the story with Sam standing by to offer help. The officers jotting down Ben's words of a huge grizzly. "I mean, this grizzly must have weighed 800, 900 pounds." he says, the officers look impressed, and Sam just nods along.  


"So, really, I don't know how to thank you." Hailey starts, walking with Dean back to the Impala. Dean leans on the hood of his baby, grinning at her with bandages on his neck and cheek bone.  
"Must you cheapen the moment." she laughs at him.

"Yeah!" he insist, grin only growing. He glances at a EMT coming up to Hailey, "You riding with your brother?" She asks. "Yeah." Hailey answers her, looking to Ben as he and Sam step up to them. "Let's go." Ben looks to her, and then to Sam, unable to speak his thanks. But Sam knows, and he nods at the kid encouragingly.  
Hailey leans in, pressing her lips to Dean's cheek, just under the small bandage.  
"I hope you find your father." She says to him sincerely.  
Then she turns away, wrapping an arm around her brother, and thanking Sam as she passes.  
Sam, settles on the Impala with a sigh as they watch them go. The ambulance doors close, and their view of Tommy, asleep on the stretcher with large bandages on his chest and side, and the two other siblings is closed off for good.  
Dean ponders for a moment.  
"Man I hate camping."  
"Me too." Sam agrees quietly.  
The ambulence sirens start up, and Dean turns to his brother. "Sam, you know we're gonna' find Dad, right?" Sam just nods and sighs, "Yeah, I know... But in the mean time." he turns to Dean, smiling. "I'm driving."  
Dean purses his lips and looks down for a moment, considering this. Then he wordlessly tosses the keys up and too his brother. Who catches them as they arch down with a satisfied grin before walking to the drivers side of the car. Dean shuffles to the passenger's. They look at eachother from over the top, and get in. Synchronizing the slam of doors. Sam grins wider as the engine turns over, and Dean looks to him patronizingly when the Impala shoots forward, and they drive on to the highway, in search of a case.

 

 

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit harder to write. I'd really appreciate it if you guys could tell me what you do and do not like about it. I want to make sure I get everything right. And if you see any typos, let me know! I spent hours revising it but I kept getting distracted and then I didn't want to read it a 4th time. Sorry! So, let me know :) And thank you everyone who read the first chapter!
> 
> *update*  
> I did go through the last 1/4 or so. So it should be fine, but just remember I'm not perfect xP


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